


Book 1: Protector

by MitzyBlue



Series: Warrior of the Stars Series [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cussing, F/M, Mild Language, Multi, Pansexual Character, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, UA, Universe Alterations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 125,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitzyBlue/pseuds/MitzyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pashera Shepard has found herself thrown into a tough situation. Can she fight off her past enough to protect the future of those around her?</p><p>The year is 2183 and humanity has spread to the stars. Pashera R. Shepard is an Alliance Military commander who soon finds herself biting off more than she can chew. With fierce determination, she fights her way through metal monsters and hellish situations alongside her team. It's all all out race to the finish as she chases her target across the galaxy. Can she capture her goal in time or will the galaxy be doomed like the races before them?</p><p>((Authors Note: This story is... experimental and my first writing attempt. I started writing this with the idea of presenting the Mass Effect world to someone who's never played the game.  Because I do the writing AND editing there is, one some occasions, mistakes in the writing. Currently, I'm trying to finish up the last few chapters before I return to the beginning of the story and try to edit/clean up the structure once more. What I'm trying to say is that you are likely to see mistakes and I will be dealing with them.))</p><p>[[<b>08.07.17-- Re-write in progress. I will not give up on this beast.</b> ♥]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> I've adjusted some of the timeline-  
> Although this story will 'mostly' follow the arc of the games- there will be some 'differences'. I will not spoil what they are but I hope it makes the story worth the read.  
> Here is what I have for the timeline so far-  
> Altered TIMELINE-  
> 2214- Nuno is born (Pash's father)  
> 2216 - Endy is born (Pash's father)  
> 2218 - Selene is born (Pash's mother)
> 
> 2231- First contact war
> 
> 2237- Zaeed Massani is born  
> 2245- Zaeed Leaves earth/ Nuno leaves earth
> 
> 2246- Endy and Nuno meet on Omega / Thane Krios is born  
> 2251- Endy & Nuno meet and a couple months later marry Selene
> 
> 2252- Artemis is born (Pash's brother)/ Pash's parents move to Mindior. / Kaidan Alenko is born.  
> 2254- Pashera is born
> 
> 2255- Zaeed Joins Alliance / Jeff ‘Joker’ Moreau is born  
> 2258- Zaeed discharged from alliance with Vido / Thane makes first kill
> 
> 2260- Kasumi Gotto is born  
> 2263- Zaeed shot/betrayed by Vido
> 
> 2265- Twins are born (Pash's siblings)
> 
> 2267- Fornax Magazine is launched (yesssssss)
> 
> 2270- Mindoir- Pashera loses family (Earthdate- June 20th midsummers eve.)  
> 2271- Pashera is officially detected as a biotic and fitted with L3 implants.  
> 2272- Pashera enlists in the military. (on birthday)
> 
> 2274- Pashera meets German
> 
> 2278- Torfan
> 
> 2283- Mass effect 1 (it all begins) (Earthdate- June 2nd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat·a·lyst: (noun) a substance that increases the rate of a chemical reaction without itself undergoing any permanent chemical change or a person or thing that precipitates an event.

                                                                         

  ****

“Did you catch that, Commander?” Joker asked with a grin and raised eyebrow.

The solemn dusky skinned statue of a woman beside him gave a stiff nod, “Yes. I am on my way.”

Commander Pashera Shepard turned and walked away with brisk steps. Her footsteps were quiet but firm on the metal flooring. Lights glittered and flashed above her as she observed and admired the vessel.

The Normandy- a new prototype stealth spaceship for the Alliance Military. It was beautiful.  Turian and human design merged into a sleek and powerful tactical stealth monster.  Her lip twitched as she thought this over- the Normandy and she had something in common.  

To her left, she heard could overhear Navigator Pressly speaking with Engineer Adams on the terminal. Pressly was an excitable older man who held no love for the other space faring races, but she thought he was an alright sort. Personally, Pashera held little to no opinion of the other races- she understood the nature of the living. ‘Good’ and ‘Bad’ were present in every race and action- she would not judge one based on the actions of another.

As she approached, Pressly turned towards her and saluted, “Congratulations, Commander. Looks like we had a smooth run. You heading down to see the captain?”

Pashera gave a curt nod, “Yes.”

Ever the chatty one, Pressly forged ahead with his own thoughts, “With all due respect, Ma’am, maybe he’ll finally tell you what we’re really doing out here.”

Pashera had to suppress a derisive snort. Early on she had learned that Pressly was a nosy ‘to the point’ type of guy.  She locked her hands behind her back as she responded, “With any luck, the captain will brief me when I get there.”  

Pressly grinned at the polite hint and stepped aside for her to pass, “Good luck, Commander.”

She stepped past him with a nod and resumed her trek to the comm room. Her eyes lingered on the navigation panel. It had a lovely hologram of the star systems and they glowed alluringly above her; it had quickly become one of her favorite parts of the ship. It would be easy to get lost for days staring into that vast galaxy of stars.  Upon the floating map she spotted a familiar system, the Attican Traverse, and a pang of sadness hit her. Mindior.  A place she once called home before it had been brutally ripped away from her. She still hated visiting that system and often would have to ask the onboard doctor for sleep aids due to the nightmares. Even soldiers had bad dreams.

Pashera’s eyes slid from the map to the direction of the com room and alighted on a pair of people speaking nearby. Her favorite doctor stood speaking with a young corporal. The doctor was none other than a Karin Chakwas who had served aboard Pashera’s last post. Doctor Chakwas was a feisty older lady with a wonderful taste in ‘night caps’ and ‘anxiety reducers’. Her knowledge of medicine was excellent and her firm but kind nature was even better. Over the years, Pashera had faced many doctors since her colony was razed and she had never bonded with them quite the same.  

Doctor Chakwas turned as Pashera approached, and the young corporal nearby saluted before launching into a question, “What do you think, Commander? We won’t be staying on Eden Prime too long, will we? I’m ichin’ for some real action.” Pashera recognized him as one of her ground team- Corporal Jenkins.

Chakwas leveled a stern gaze in Jenkins direction, “I sincerely hope you’re kidding, Corporal. Your ‘real action’ usually ends with me patching up crew members in the infirmary.”

Pashera covered a smile by rubbing her mouth with her hand and said, “You must calm yourself, Corporal.  There will be plenty of ‘real action’ in the future, but if you run into a situation blindly you are liable to end up dead.”

Jenkins grinned brightly, “Sorry, Commander. But this waiting is killin’ me. I’ve never been on a mission like this before. Not one with a Spectre on board!”   
  
Pashera bit back a sigh; this Spectre, Nihlus, was getting this whole ship in a tizzy. With a stern expression force on to her face she said, “Jenkins, this should be treated like any other mission- we do our job and we do it well. No matter the circumstances.”  
  
His grin was gone as he gave a sulky reply, “Easy for you to say, you’ve already proven yourself at Torfan! This is my big chance. I need to show the brass what I can do!”  
  
Pashera shook her head with a tight lipped frown at the mention of Torfan, “Jenkins, Torfan is not a good memory. You are young, Corporal. There will be plenty of time to prove yourself. Do not rush or do something stupid. That is how soldiers get killed.”

Jenkins looked properly abashed, “Sorry, ma’am. And don’t worry, ma’am. I’m not going to screw this up.”  
  
Chakwas and Pashera shared a quick exchange of smiles before Pashera said, “Please excuse me. The Captain is expecting me.” With a polite incline of her head, she moved off before more conversation could start. Her strides were resolute, and she hoped there would be no more delays between her and the comm room.

She breathed a relieved sigh as she finally passed through the comm room doors.

The lights were slightly dimmer here. A lone figure stood in the room. Her eyes had not fully adjusted when she realized that it was not the Captain but the turian, Spectre Nihlus. She could feel her back tense and she slowed her steps. Although Pashera would not admit it to another crew member, the Spectre set her on edge. Having him aboard meant classified information was not being shared and this mission was more than what the Alliance or Council would have one believe. It also seemed like she ran into him around every corner, and it was beginning to get under her skin.

Nihlus stood quietly staring at a vid screen of Eden Prime; lush green hills, blue sky, and peace as far as the eye could see.

She stopped in the dull lighting to look over the tall alien. Nihlus was not bad looking for a turian. His face plates were the dark reddish brown of dried blood and the soft hide along his neck was a pleasing pinkish cream.  He was actually smaller and more petite than most of the turians that Pashera had seen— though when most turians stood at seven feet or more it was hard to consider them petite. Her eyes lingered on the small spurs that jutted from his doglike legs. She wondered briefly if turian spurs were just a bone protrusion or a talon.

Arms crossed over her chest, she frowned in thought.

Nihlus turned to acknowledge her, “Commander Shepard.” His voice was a modulated flanging purr, “I was hoping you’d get here first. It will give us a chance to talk.”

With a quiet grace he approached her, his bright green eyes meeting her icy blues.

She liked his eyes. Vivid and alert, they seemed to glow in the dim room.  His narrow face reminded her of a cat she had when she was younger. It was widely claimed that turians looked birdlike because of their fringe and the hardened face plates; however, she had always thought of them as catlike. Perhaps it was the teeth. Or maybe it was the tiny noses that wiggled when they talked. She wasn’t sure.

His face was actually softer in its edging and shape than most of the Turians she had seen, and she didn’t recognize the white colony facial markings that he sported. However, she had never actually taken time to learn  the different clans. Like all turians, it was obvious he had military training. Every move he made seemed to be calculated and calm.

Pashera remained quiet while she continued to observe him. She wasn’t as familiar with Turian facial expressions, but his body language seemed peculiarly tense today.

She gave a polite nod of her head, “I am to meet Captain Anderson here, sir.”  
  
Nihlus inclined his head in acknowledgement, “He’s on his way.”  
  
He turned to pace while he spoke his next words and his mandibles fluttered slightly as he spoke, “I’m interested in this world we’re going to—Eden Prime. I’ve heard it’s quite beautiful. What do you know of it?”  
  
Pashera willed her face to remain neutral and chose her next words carefully, “They say it is paradise; however, I have not been there before and do not know.” Her eyes flicked towards the view screen at the lush lands that looked similar to Mindoir. _No matter what it looks like it will not last_ , she thought darkly.

Nihlus paused in his pacing to glance at her, “Yes, a paradise. Serene. Tranquil. Safe. Eden prime has become something of a symbol for your people, hasn’t it?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. The words he had chosen bothered her-- their implications carried a dark undertone. The first contact war had been in her parent’s time but even now there were ripples that spanned the galaxy from it. Grudges were still common amongst many races though it have been over fifty years since the incident. She bit her tongue to keep from speaking. Hopefully the Spectre did not carry one of those grudges.

He turned away from her and his pacing stilled as he looked at the vid screen, “Proof that humanity can not only establish colonies across the galaxy, but also protect them.” He glanced over his shoulder, “but how safe is it, really?”  
  
A frown began tugging at her lips as she replied, “Is there something I should be aware of, sir?”  She wanted to add that of course it was not safe; _if her small colony of peaceful farmers could be razed to the ground then nowhere was truly ever safe_.   
  
Nihlus resumed his pacing, “Your people are still newcomers, Shepard. The galaxy can be a very dangerous place.” He turned to face her and crossed his arms, “Is the Alliance truly ready for this?”

Pashera locked eyes with him. It was unknown if this was a veiled threat or a test for some unknown reason. She decided it was best to remain silent in response. Her eyes narrowed in thought and she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

The firm tap of footsteps indicated the arrival of Captain Anderson behind her. Dark skin. Cropped hair. Pristine uniform. Every inch the middle aged military hero she was honored to follow.

Anderson looked briefly over the two tense figures before saying, “I think it’s about time we told the commander what’s really going on.”

Pashera resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Boys and their posturing- for some reason they disliked open honesty and limited confrontation. She had never seen much of a point to the constant dick measuring contests—she preferred to get things over with a good brawl or polite chat over tea. Either one was preferable to dancing around the issue. She almost sighed wistfully at the thought of tea; there was none onboard the new ship and she would have killed for some at that moment.   The last few days had been difficult without her morning cup.

Nihlus uncrossed his arms and seemed to relax slightly, “This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run.”

His statement was not met with surprise. Pashera simply nodded in response.  If it had been a ‘simple’ anything then the council’s most decorated Spectre would not be aboard the ship. She shifted her weight and fought to keep her typical neutral expression on her face.   
  
Anderson picked up where Nihlus had left off, “We’re making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime. That’s why we needed the stealth systems operational.”

“May I ask what we are picking up, sir?” Pashera asked quietly without looking away from Nihlus.

“A research team on Eden Prime unearthed some kind of beacon during an excavation. It was Prothean,” Anderson said briskly.

The frown that she had been fighting finally won. Prothean tech was a massive find and was the current known advancer for all current races in the galaxy. A find like this was important but dangerous- it made Eden Prime a target.  Anderson could see her frown forming and continued, “This is big, Shepard. Last time humanity made a discovery like this, it jumped our technology forward by hundreds of years,” He shifted, “but Eden Prime doesn’t have the facilities to handle something like this. We need to bring the beacon back to the Citadel for proper study.”

Nihlus interjected, “Obviously, this goes beyond mere human interests. This discovery could affect every species in Council space. That aside, Commander, the beacon is not the only reason I’m here.”

Anderson gestured in her direction, “Nihlus wants to see you in action, Shepard. He’s here to evaluate you.”  
  
“Evaluate me, sir?” Her heart skipped a little- _did that mean what she thought it meant?_ The only reason she could think of was a Spectre candidacy and she wasn’t aware she had even been considered. Becoming a Spectre was a far off pipe dream most colony kids had after watching vids of the ‘heroic’ protectors of the galaxy. Was that really in her future?

She focused on remaining calm as she waited for the answer.

Anderson nodded, “The Alliance or… well, humanity is hoping for more say with the Citadel Council. The Specters represent the Council’s power and authority. The acceptance of a human into the Specter ranks will help advance us to our goal. It shows how far the Alliance has come.”    
  
Nihlus shifted and spoke, “I’ve studied you commander. I was impressed when I studied the reports from Torfan. A grim business… but you got the job done.”  He pointed one of his three taloned fingers at her, “That’s why I put your name forward as a candidate for the Spectres.”

She went from angry at the mention of Torfan to startled at the news of him personally suggesting her candidacy. Although knowledge of her deeds was not uncommon, it was surprising to hear that he had studied her and thought of her as a good candidate because of them.

She ran her tongue slowly over her teeth in thought.

By him suggesting her as a Spectre candidate; it was implied that he held no racial grudges- a rare but very positive occurrence. She mused over this for a second before she realized he had been speaking, “… we are a rare and elite group. It is rare to find an individual with the skills we seek. I don’t care that you’re human, Shepard. I only care that you can do the job. I will need to see your skills for myself. Eden Prime will be the first of several missions together.”

She felt her lip twitch and she inclined her head to hide the partial smile. Aside from the idea that she may reach Spectre status, she liked the idea of ‘several missions’ with this attractive turian. She was a great admirer of Turian strategy… and for their fluid grace in battle.  

Anderson set about to explaining her mission and she quietly nodded when he needed acknowledgement.  Nihlus watched quietly, occasionally he would interject with information or input. The mission seemed straightforward for the most part.

“ _Captain, we’ve got a problem_.” Joker’s voice cut through the briefing on the intercom and there was an anxious sound to his words, _“Transmission from Eden Prime, sir. You better see this!”_

Nihlus, Anderson, and Shepard all quickly moved towards the vid screen nearby, “Bring it up on screen,” Anderson ordered.

Images of what appeared to be a war-zone appeared on the screen. Heavy fighting and gunfire sounds filled the room for a few minutes. Once it faded away, Joker spoke over the com, _“Everything just cuts out after that, sir. No com traffic at all.”_

Grim silence for a moment before Anderson spoke, “Reverse, and hold at 38.5.”

The image of a ship appeared on screen; a grim herald extending from the heavens like a hand pushing through dark clouds. A once peaceful paradise now a burning hell.

Anderson’s face was a firm frown, “Status report.”

_“Seventeen minutes out, Captain. No other Alliance ships in the area.”_

“Take us in, Joker. Fast and quiet,” Anderson said as he looked solemnly at Pashera, “…this mission just got a lot more complicated.”

The room seemed colder, and she listened soundlessly to Nihlus and Anderson as they revised the mission. Her thoughts were troubled. Once again she faced a colony in ruins; she felt bile rise in her throat and anger scorch like fire in her stomach. Her eyes lingered on the frozen scene before her - she would kill whoever did this… no matter what it took.   
  
“Shepard, grab you gear and meet us in the cargo hold,” Anderson’s voice cut through her angry haze.

“Yes, sir,” She replied, her voice a steel blade in the now quiet room.

Her walk was brisk when she left the com room. Jenkins was nervously dancing outside the door- Eden Prime was his homeworld and he wanted to know what was going on.

“Jenkins, get Alenko and suit up. Meet in the hold in five,” she didn’t say more- she didn’t know more.

Her steps carried her to the female crew bunks and she stripped off her civvies. The communal mirror on the wall showed her reflection, and she paused at the sight of the tattoos on her dark skin.  Six flowers decorated her upper thigh- one for each family member.  Her hand brushed softly at them with fondness; this was her reminder of what she was fighting for. She loved and hated it. Her eyes traveled up to her back where she knew a series of small butterfly silhouettes were located- one for every squadmate she had ever lost.  A dark hope that no more butterflies would be added. She hastily pulled on her armor and wrapped a scarf around her hair.

With a great sigh she knelt down like a knight from one of the old storybooks she’d used to read. The heroes of old. She interlocked her fingers with the pointer fingers out like a gun, _“Great spirits of land, air, and time- protect and guide me this day. Let me act in wisdom and guide my hand so it does not falter. Help me be strong in spirit, and guide my steps to be swift and sure. Mother of this land keep watch over the souls lost this day, give them peace. Let evil be cast from us. Through kindness I am stronger, through suffering my eyes are opened, through forgiveness I am wizened. Guide me, and if I should fall- guide the one who picks my sword from the dust.”_  

Pashera closed her eyes and held her breath. It had been years since she needed to read the words from the small book that had been her mother’s- she had memorized it after so many battles. It was one of the few things she never failed to recite. Breathing out, she opened her eyes and stood. She felt a wave of strength and resolve.

“It’s been years since I’ve heard you make that prayer,” Anderson’s voice was soft as he spoke from the doorway.

She turned to him and gave a small smile, “I never stopped, but it has been a long time since we were nearing a battle together.”

“Ready, kid?”

“Yessir.”

“Then let’s go.”


	2. Fallen Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fall·en: (adjective) subject to sin or depravity.  
> par·a·dise: (noun) an ideal or idyllic place or state.
> 
> (Word translations at the end)

 

                                                                

 

Wind rushed around the cargo hold like the ass end of a hurricane as the bay doors opened. Pashera gripped tightly to the cargo netting at her shoulder. Nearby, Nihlus stood checking over his weapons like a hawk examining his prey.  

Alenko shouted over the wind at him, “Are you coming with us, sir?”

Nihlus shook his head and shouted back, “I move faster alone.”

With that, he was off. Agile form leaping from the still moving craft and disappearing quickly into the trees that dotted the surroundings.  The ship carried on to the drop point without pause.

Anderson glanced down at the passing ground as the Normandy started to land and said, “Nihlus will scout out ahead and give you position updates.  Other than that, you are to maintain radio silence. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

Anderson gave a slight nod and braced himself on the netting as the craft finished landing, “The mission is yours now, Shepard.” With that said, he turned and retreated into the ship.

Shepard spared a minute to watch him go before she turned and gestured for Jenkins and Alenko to follow her.

Crouching at the first cover after the drop point, she took a minute to learn the land beyond what the map on her omni-tool presented. The smell of smoke and wilderness drifted to her nose. It was quickly followed by that of burnt flesh; a smell she could never forget. She clamped down hard against the flashbacks that bubbled up from her memory. Exhaling through her nose, she looked to her squad- they needed her focused.

“Oh god,” Jenkins whispered with his eyes wide, “What happened here?”  His normally pale face was sheet white as he looked to the towering spirals of smoke that formed a haze in the sky.

Pashera shook her head, “Keep quiet and stay sharp.”

She glanced at the sky and scanned quickly for signs of the ship they had seen on the vid. Nihlus’ voice crackled over her com, “This place has been hit hard. Hostiles everywhere, so keep your guard up.”

Pashera met the eyes of her squad and gave a quick nod to each while taking out her pistol and gesturing to move out.  She preferred stealth and to aim for the element of surprise when she could. With luck that would be the case today.

However, it wasn’t but a minute later that Alenko gave a startled shout, “What the hell is THAT?!”   A creature floated into view; little green body suspended by mushroom like pods on its back. Spindly legs paddled the air lazily as it moved over a swampy puddle nearby.  More of the creatures floated in the area beyond.

Jenkins snorted with a strained laugh and loudly whispered, “Gas bag, it’s harmless.”

For a very brief moment, Pashera considered shooting both of them. Closing her eyes, she counted to ten to get her temper in check. When ready, she fixed them with a scathing look, “Zip it,” she ordered in a hushed growl.  Turning away, she began making her way around the edge of the shallow swamp- gently moving gas bags aside with her biotics when they floated into her path.

It was not long before they stumbled upon the first of the dead colonists. Little more than charred remains, she did not stop to check to see if they lived. Swallowing hard she pressed on. Jenkins muttered to himself under his breath and Pashera worried that his mind was not on the mission.  

They swiftly covered ground- passing more bodies that needed no rescue. Soon they reached an outcropping of rocks with a wide winding path leading into a grove of trees.  Pashera took cover behind one of the stones and held up her fist in indication for the group to stop. The air smelled wrong. Metallic- but not the same metallic as blood or death. Dangerous and unknown. She edged around the rock and slowly scanned the area before motioning for the squad to move to the next rock formation.

It happened quickly. Sharp blasts in a mechanical purr echoed out with a scream of pain. Jenkins collapsed to the ground as several sentry bots rose into the air with guns blazing. Pashera and Alenko took aim, and after a cacophony of gunfire the machines lay sparking on the ground. Small frizzing pops the only sound in the stillness. She made her way towards the still body of Jenkins while readying her omni-tool to apply medi-gel.

Alenko reached Jenkins first and knelt beside the body, “…ripped right through his shields. Never stood a chance.”  

Pashera knelt next to the now forever still body and quietly prayed, “Land mother, this child returns to your embrace. Guide his soul. May your journey on the Long Road be short. May you find peace on your path.” With gentle hands, she closed Jenkins’ staring eyes and stood.

Meeting Alenko’s gaze she said, “We will see that he receives a proper service once the mission is complete.  I need you to stay focused right now Alenko.”

His mouth was a taut line as he nodded, “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

They moved carefully to cover. Rocks jutting against the sky like bones from torn skin. Pashera tried to push away the dark thoughts as she evaluated what had happened. The enemies were using drones that were deadly in their efficiency.  Their shields were not good enough to withstand the type of firepower that was being used. She glanced at Alenko, “Your file states you are a biotic, correct?”

He nodded at her again.

“Are you capable of forming a secondary shield over yourself?”

The soft shimmer of blue that flickered above his armour was her answer, and she nodded in approval. She was not able to maintain such a tight biotic field, but it eased her mind to know that he at least had protection. They advanced forward.

Another smell, like a strange mix of biotics and animals against an electric fence drifted into her awareness. Faint and far away. Whatever was ahead felt WRONG in more ways than one.  

She narrowed her eyes and checked her pistol-- she would not have another death this day if it could be helped.  Alenko met her eyes and they moved forward through the trees. Silence beckoned. All bird calls had ceased before they had arrived, so the only sound they heard was an uneasy stillness broken only by the tickling sigh of the wind through leaves.  

 _Nothing but whispers of the dead_ , her mind taunted.

 _Wrong... Wrong… Wrong_. The smell was driving her crazy, and she could feel the hairs on her arms trying to stand. When Nihlus’ voice crackled over her comm, she gave a startled jump and nearly shot the nearest gas bag drifting lazily past.

“ _I’ve got a lot of buildings over here and a LOT of bodies, Shepard. I’m going to check it out. I’ll try to catch up with you at the dig site._ ”

Pashera had to bite back an acknowledgement since she was to keep radio silence.

Gunfire.

Her head snapped to look in the direction of a clearing just past the trees. Rapid pops could be heard echoing from somewhere ahead. Moving cautiously, Pashera took position behind a rocky outcropping at the edge of the grove. Her eyes scanned the area as Alenko took cover to her left.

A soldier running in their direction with a series of sentry drones following close behind. The soldier appeared to be trying to un-jam their weapon as they ran. With a loud SNAP, Pashera’s rifle was out of its shoulder holster, and she glared down the scope.

POP.

One drone fell to the ground.

FWOOSHD.

Alenko’s biotics dashed another drone against a rock.  Cracka-Cracka-Crack. The soldier’s gun appeared to be working again and they had taken aim at the last sentry. Metal rained from the sky as the drone was blasted apart.

Pashera looked past the soldier to where large humanoid metal creatures were holding a man down over a strange pedestal. Suddenly, a large spike shot upwards; piercing the body and lifting it into the air. Heads like flashlights looked up at the bleeding human. Red rain. The metal creatures were soaked in the blood that fell from the body.

Staring at this scene of carnage, the soldier’s arm dropped to their side. Posture no longer defiant- they turned and ran.

Seeing the movement, the machines began to advance quickly after the soldier. Pashera took aim at what she hoped would be a vital part of the machine and with another powerful POP it dropped heavily to the ground. Alenko’s assault rifle could be heard cracking and soon the other collapsed as well.

With the threat dispersed, Pashera folded and holstered her rifle as she advanced towards the soldier who appeared to be a young lady. Her once white and pink armour was scuffed and covered in the mud, ash, and grime of battle.

When Pashera was close enough the soldier gave a sharp solute, “Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212. You the one in charge, ma’am?”

With a curt nod Pashera replied, “Are you wounded, Chief Williams?”

Williams shook her head, “Nothing serious, ma’am. The others… weren’t so lucky.” The girl’s posture drooped as she spoke. The burdens of the day settling on her shoulders as if she were Atlas himself.  “I was leading a patrol on the perimeter when the attack hit.”

The Chief’s gaze switched to a distant point and she gestured westward, “We attempted to get out a distress call, but they cut off our communications. I’ve been fighting for my life ever since.”

Pashera frowned; this soldier appeared to have booked it to save her own skin and then whined about the consequences to her actions. A deep dislike began to settle into the pit of her stomach. She ignored the feeling- _this was no time to pass judgments_. Everyone makes mistakes, hopefully this girl would learn from hers the way Pashera had learned from her own.

Williams continued speaking, “We tried to double back towards the beacon, ma’am, but we walked into an ambush.”  As Williams spoke, the corners of Pashera’s mouth edged into a steady frown. She looked away toward where the man was held high in the air by the spike. It was difficult not to judge- too much blood spilt. Lives lost.

Pashera was quiet as she thought; this enemy held no regard for life and the sense of wrongness was making her edgy- like a sneeze that wouldn’t form.

Williams continued, “I don’t think any of the others… I think I’m the only one left.”

Pashera could feel her brow pull into the frown but she quietly refrained from snapping the question of why a squad leader felt the need to abandon her team. This day was going to hurt enough without her adding to the pain of others.

“We held our position, ma’am, for as long as we could. Until the geth overwhelmed us.”

At the word ‘geth’, Pashera’s full attention snapped back to Chief Williams, “Geth? …Odd for them to be out of the veil now if that is what they are.”  

With a dismissive shrug Williams replied, “They must have come for the beacon. We’re close to the dig site. Just over that rise. It might still be there.” Pashera looked towards the rise that Williams had gestured at.  

Her fist balled up tightly.

 _Wrong_.  It echoed from that area and filled her nose with a scent that itched like an infection filled with ants.  

“Alright. Take a moment to link Omnis. …Done? Good, fall in line, and move out,” Pashera said softly as she began walking.

They moved over the ridge towards the dig site in low cautious crouches- flitting between areas of cover. Doubt that their target would still be there was scratching at the back of Pashera’s mind. She felt angry and tired at the death she saw as they passed more villagers and soldiers speared on the mechanical spikes. Grizzly displays. Brutal in nature to inspire horror and dishearten. The growing stench of 'wrongness' seemed to roll from the spikes and Pashera felt uneasy as they moved past them.

Her fingers twitched with the cracks in her composure that the smells were bringing and she held her pistol at the ready as they rounded the corner to the dig site. Nothing but more geth soldiers awaited them. It wasn’t a difficult fight. Mentally, she made a note to mention in her report that the local squad appeared to have been undertrained due to the supposed struggle they had against the enemy.  

“ _Change of plans, Shepard_.” Nihlus crackled quietly onto her com. Voice a hushed whisper that reverberated oddly with the translator, “ _There’s a small spaceport up ahead. I’m going to check it out. I’ll wait for you there._ ”

A road leading towards the rising smoke was visible from where they stood at the empty dig site. Her eyes lingered on the billow of smoke and she wrestled with the feeling of unease.

 “Alright...,” she looked over her squad, “weapon and supply check. We move in two. Our new target is the spaceport and judging by that smoke there may be some resistance.”

With her small speech made, Pashera quickly checked over her weapons and made sure that her rifle was securely in her back holster. Glancing down, she could see the thermal clip in her pistol still had an adequate amount of shots left before it would overheat and need to be switched out, and for once she was still at full reserve in medi-gel.

This mission seemed to be the black and white sort- you were either alive and didn’t need medical help… or you were dead and no help could be had.

Grim thoughts tangled with the other worries in her mind as she scanned the area.  Clouds tinted red by the setting sun caught her eye and she mumbled softly, “Even the sky bleeds in this hell.”  Williams must have heard her because a nervous glance and frown was cast her way. The mockery of a supposed paradise being more like hell was not lost on any of them.

Once everyone was sure that they were as ready as possible, they set off at a quick pace. The rise in the road hid all but the dark pillars of smoke that bloomed and entwined with the red clouds.

_Wrong. Wrong. WRONG. WRONG!_

Pashera’s nerves screamed like a piano being smashed. Jangling keys singing a broken song that did nothing to sooth the ill at ease roll of her stomach. As they approached an area filled with the remains of temporary metal shelters, more impaled victims could be seen. Suddenly the spikes began to lower and the victims to move; glowing with an unsettling blue light.

Guttural howls issued forth from the abominations. She cussed under her breath as she raised her pistol and began to fire. Without command, the squad quickly followed suit and opened fire on the humanoid husks.

 

~~

 

Pashera nudged the warped body with the toe of her boot. Her pistol held ready in case it decided to begin moving again. The smell of wrongness was from whatever those poor souls had been turned into, and she felt sick to her stomach with fury. The body looked like most of it had been replaced with synthetics. Blue paste that glowed faintly was pooling beneath the crumpled limbs. She ignored the temptation to drag the bodies into a pile and light them on fire. There was no telling what this crap would do to the environment if it was burned, and so far they showed no signs of returning to ‘life’.  

Bowing her head, she offered a small prayer of peace for the poor souls that had their body stolen in such a horrific manner.

Nearby, Chief Williams was scouting the labs in an attempt to find information.

“Commander,” she called out as she reached one of the few still intact trailers. “The security is active on this one- it’s locked. There could be survivors.”

With tired resignation, Pashera made her way towards where Williams was standing. Alenko had already taken a defensive position next to the door.  Pashera pressed her palm against the door and began working with her omni-tool to hack the locking system, the orange glow of it’s holographic display flickering over the metal door. Within minutes there was a soft WHUF and the door slid open to reveal two traumatized scientists.

“Oh! Thank the Maker- you’re human!” The small red-headed female exclaimed.

The scrawny man sat in the corner muttering frantically at the wall. Snatches of “our doom is upon us” and “the age of humanity is over.”  Pashera glanced between the two. They seemed relatively unharmed. When she was sure they did not need immediate medical attention she said, “I am Commander Shepard of the Alliance military. We are looking for the beacon. Do you know its location?”

The woman wrung her hands as she responded, “We moved it to the dock for pick-up this morning.  Please, don’t mind my assistant. I gave him his medication but it hasn’t kicked in yet. There was a squad… they… they sacrificed themselves…”

With a nod Pashera raised her arm and looked up the location on her omni-tool map. “We need to secure the beacon. I will lock the door behind me and you should be safe until a rescue squad arrives. Okay?”

The woman gave a shaky nod.

With a brisk motion, Pashera turned and pressed her palm against the control panel. A small countdown appeared and she ushered her squad out. BEEP. The door slid shut and the security lock was re-engaged.  As they turned to go the sound of a shot echoed through the hills from the direction of the dock. “Nihlus...?” Pashera questioned the air as a sense of unease filled her chest.

She raised her hand and flicked it in the direction of the docks, her pistol at the ready as they set off at a rapid pace. The team following closely behind. Pashera had no doubt that Nihlus could handle himself but the silence over her comm only increased her worry. Something had gone wrong- she could feel it in her gut.

As they crested the rise of the hill, the feeling intensified. The giant ship she’d first seen on the vid screen was pulling away from the docks and into the clouds. Finger like protrusions crackled with red lightning.

It was four geth, three husks, and dozens of shots later when they found where the gunshot had originated.

The still body of the Spectre lay in a growing halo of blue blood.  Pashera knelt beside him with her head bowed and whispered, “Land Mother, a warrior is claimed far from home. Welcome him as your own, and grant him peace. Great wind, carry his soul home,” Her eyes met his green ones, now tinted dark with death, “I will carry your sword, and with it fulfil your will.”  

Williams shifted nervously, “Does she do that often?”

“What?” said Alenko.

“Give weird prayers over dead turians…”

“I dunno… maybe?”

Their whispered conversation carried over the energetic flames that licked at the nearby crates. Movement caught Pashera’s eye and she edged her hand towards her gun.

“Over there! By the crates! I saw something move!” Williams shout rang out and Pashera gave an inner wince, so much for getting the jump on whomever or whatever was behind there.  

A grungy looking dock worker stepped out with his hands raised, “Wait! Don’t—don’t shoot! I’m one of you! I’m human.”

“Sneaking around soldiers with guns can get you killed,” Pashera said coldly as she leveled her gun at him. She doubted this terrified lump of skin was responsible for shooting Nihlus but it was better to err on the side of caution.

The man cowered, “I…I’m sorry. I was hiding. From those creatures,” he thrust his chin towards the corpses of geth and husks. “My name’s Powell. I saw what happened to that turian. The other one shot him.”

Pashera tilted her head slightly as she processed what the man had said. With a tight frown she gestured for Alenko and Williams to keep an eye on the perimeter. “Explain,” she demanded.

The man’s eyes flicked towards the gun she held like a nervous tick. He was shaking as he spoke, “The other turian. He was here first. He was waiting when your friend showed up. Called him Saren. I think they knew each other. Your friend seemed to relax. He let his guard down… and Saren killed him. Shot him right in the back. I’m just lucky he didn’t see me behind the crates.”

Grim silence. Pashera lowered her weapon and rubbed the curved bridge of her nose in thought, her hand brushing over the scar that ran across her face from her right eyebrow to her left cheekbone, “I see… Do you know the location of the artifact that was supposed to be picked up here today?”

“You mean the beacon? It’s over on the platform. I knew that thing was trouble. Everything’s gone to hell since we found it. First that damn mother ship shows up. Then the attack. You’ll need to take the cargo train to get to the platform where the beacon is at. …I- I need to go.”

The man wandered off behind the crates looking shell shocked and worn. Pashera allowed him and her eyes followed his trail until he was finally out of sight.

“ _Rundi ka bacha_!” Her fist slammed into the nearby cargo container with enough force to leave a dent.  Her biotics shimmered around her hand- a reflection of her anger. Nihlus might have been a Spectre and able to take care of himself, but she felt guilty because she should have had his back.

“Commander…?” Alenko had jumped a solid foot at the startling outburst.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath Pashera tried to calm herself and  work over the new information. Saren… she had heard Anderson mention that name before. He was another Spectre for the Council. Was this a plot by the council races to steal the beacon to prevent humanity from advancing, or was there a rogue Spectre agent causing havoc and working with geth? Both these ideas held bitter tastes and were hard to swallow.  

Icy eyes snapped open as she turned to look at her squad, “We need to get to that beacon.”

Alenko and Williams nodded and they set out with guns at the ready. The platform was guarded by a decent squad of geth, but they cut through them with a quick and tireless efficiency. The train thankfully did not need repairing and moved with a fluid pull that left Pashera slightly breathless.   

Upon reaching their destination a large bomb was their welcome party.

“Alenko, I need shields. Williams watch my six,” she said as she knelt down and pulled up the programs she had on her omni-tool in search for the one thing that might disable the rather large explosive device. Upon finding the program she’d wanted, she faced her palm towards the bomb’s control panel. Seconds felt like hours before the bomb gave an unsettlingly friendly chirp and powered down.

 

~~

 

Alenko held his shield over the group and tried to keep his breath steady.

He’d not been working with the commander for long but he felt a sense of admiration building for her. She was efficient and effective. Careful and calculated. Damn, he was alliterating again.

A bead of sweat rolled down his back inside his suit.

He glanced at her. Hunched over the bomb- her face impassive. She was an ocean of calm grace. More than once she had surprised him on this mission. All he had known of her from the ship scuttlebutt was that she had lead the team on Torfan.

Meeting her had been surprising. At 5’4” she wasn’t exactly the infamous monster he’d been expecting. Though her scars were intimidating, he’d been startled to see her blue eyes and the smattering of freckles that covered her nose when she’d come to speak with him directly.

The words she spoken were direct and to the point.

Every move seemed distant, calculated, and cold. However, he’d begun to glimpse the warm heart she hid. Over the mission it had become more apparent, as he saw the genuine compassion she held for others. Sure, the Commander was a bit of a hardass. But it was the little things like the whispered prayers she made over stranger and soldier alike that showed glimpses of who she really was. He made a mental note to ask her about the language she would occasionally slip into.

The bomb deactivated with a chirp, and he could feel the tension ease in his shoulders.

His eyes watched as her nimble gloved fingers tapped at her omni-tool and she turned to address them, “Alenko, Williams. My indicator shows three more explosive devices. I have sent you each a copy of the program I used to disable this one. Make your way to the other locations and defuse them. I will try to clear you a path and diffuse the farthest one.”

She stood and holstered her pistol. A quick, nod at them and she was off like a shot- her biotics reflecting a blue haze off the surrounding metal as she tossed geth like rag dolls over the rails lining the walkway.

Alenko checked his omni-tool while he ran to the second nearest bomb. He recognized the program as special N7 software. Expensive and difficult to get a hold of- yet she had given it to them casually. He crouched down beside the ticking device and allowed the program to do its work. As he knelt on the metal walkway, he kept an eye on his surroundings. Biotics ready to form a shield if geth approached.

There was no immediate danger though- the commander had managed to clear all the nearby geth during her charge.

CHIRP.

He looked down. The bomb was disabled. Williams jogged up to stand beside him. Alenko did not rise immediately; taking his time checking to make sure there wasn’t a secondary counter before standing and nodding to the new squadmate. He wasn’t sure what to think of her yet though so far she had proved to be a competent soldier.

Together they headed for the end of the platform.

Sitting casually against the last bomb was the commander. Her hand blocked Alenko’s view of her shoulder but he spotted the fresh pool of blood that had dripped down from her arm. A strained smile crossed her face before she turned and spit out a bitten stim packet. Alenko looked at the stim and frowned. He’d heard of N7 soldiers taking stims in this manner, but he’d never witnessed it before.

Wordlessly Alenko knelt to check the wound. Pulling her hand away revealed that she had already sealed it with a large medi-gel patch. The wound was large. He could see the dark skin where her armour had been blasted away, and the fabric of her undersuit was soaked with blood. Bloody fingerprints smeared the milky surface of the patch.

Still frowning, he remembered noticing that she didn’t try to hold a shield over herself earlier. Her biotics seemed to be more of a blunt hammer than a fine instrument. He wondered if he should invite her to practice sometime.

“Could not risk the _āpasa mēṁ gālī-galauja karanā_ bombs going off,” she said while Alenko checked over her wound. She winced when he touched the bandage. There were definitely signs of bone trauma.  Her free hand fluttered slightly as she spoke, “I was not sure they were all set for the same time, so I was perhaps a little more inattentive than I should have been.”

Those dangerous cold blue eyes slowly focused on Alenko as he performed a scan with his omni-tool, “If you’re done fretting, Alenko, we should head for the dock.”

He pursed his lips in annoyance but wasn’t going to argue with someone known as ‘The Butcher’, “Understood, Commander.”

 

~~

 

Pashera stood and pulled out her gun with a wince. Her shoulder ached fiercely. She’d taken stims to dull the pain but the injury wasn’t one that she could shrug off. More-so when shrugging involved moving the injured appendage. The smell of more husks nearby tickled at her nose- _they needed to move_. She tilted her head. If her ears weren’t mistaken the warbling chirps of the geth were also closer than she’d like.  

She was right.

Thankfully a once more short fight. Three rounds in the husk and an impressive biotic toss made by Alenko finished off what was left of the nearby geth.  Williams had a fierce grin as she fired her assault rifle. Still military strict in her actions, she was obviously relishing the chance to take a small revenge on those who killed her squad.

Pashera looked over the docks when the area was cleared.

The beacon stood aglow against the dark red clouds. Bits of flaming ash drifted down like black snow in the growing dusk. Pashera sighed and braced her injured arm. Now that the beacon was secured, her eyes had more time to wander over the spears of black smoke and pick out areas of wanton destruction.  

Reaching up she activated the comm connection in her helmet, “Normandy, the package is secured. Requesting immediate evac.”

Alenko wandered towards to beacon, “This is amazing. Actual working Prothean technology. Unbelievable!”

Williams paced as she looked at it, “It wasn’t doing anything like that when they dug it up.”

“Something must have activated it,” he said while stepping closer to admire it.

Pashera listened to the reply through her com and then responded, “Affirmative, Normandy. Standing by.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pulse come from the beacon. Green trails like strange sunspots warped around Alenko and began to drag him forward.  Pashera reacted without thought as she leapt forward to drag him out of the beam.

It worked.

Pushing Alenko to the side, she found herself being pulled into the air. There was a feeling as though her skull was being peeled open. The air became thick like trying to breathe mud.  Gasping, her view of the sky began to fuzz into a bloody haze, and strange images flooded her mind.  Pain flashed like hot knives in her head. It was a scrambling mass of confusion. If she could have, she would have screamed from the intense pain. Flashes of vague beings fleeing, machines, and death overwhelmed her.

The world faded as she blacked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ Special thank you to my husband for spending so many hours editing this with me. ♥ (This chapter updated/re-edited 5.10.16)
> 
> A few 'choice phrases' were used (there is an explanation for this!) And the loose translations are as follows-
> 
>  _Āpasa mēṁ gālī-galauja karanā (आपस में गाली-गलौज करना)_ \- Damn  
>  _Rundi ka bacha_ \- Son of a whore.
> 
> My cussing/translations is honestly *not* very good. If someone knows a 'better' translation for these phrases I would be pleased to hear suggestions.


	3. Turn a Blind Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turn a blind eye (idiom): to ignore something and pretend you do not see it
> 
> (translations at end of chapter)

 

Pashera awoke sluggishly. Her head felt like a ship crashing repeatedly upon rocks, and opening her eyes felt like she had replaced them with small bombs. Struggling to sit up, her mind scrambled for why she felt like she had just returned from making some poor decisions on shore leave. A voice echoed at her through the blurry haze, but all the words sounded like someone trying to talk around a mouthful of chewy candy bar mixed with cement.

With some effort, she concentrated and was able to start picking out words.  “--ooorgtar… I think she’s waking up.”

She thought it might be Alenko, but everything still sounded a little garbled. A feeling like that might be important nagged at her, but her brain still hadn’t focused. She rubbed her head. Why did it feel like someone had filled it with fish and rocks? The room spun as she forced herself into a sitting position.

Doctor Chakwas face swam into view, “You had us worried there, Shepard. How are you feeling?”

“Like I have survived another drinking contest with a krogan,” she cast her eyes down. The light nearby was causing her ferocious pain.

With a wonderful spike of adrenaline she remembered what had happened. Her eyes flicked towards Alenko. He appeared healthy and unharmed. Good. They had lost enough people on this mission. Too many.

“How long have I been unconscious?” She asked, her voice an echo of how groggy and sore she felt. Pashera vaguely took notice that someone had striped off her armor and headwrap. Her previously braided hair now tumbled down her back. She frowned and touched the edge of her shirt where part of it had apparently been cut away in order to tend to her shoulder. She would need to requisition a replacement piece for her damaged armor. Thank goodness most modern armors had interchangeable parts.

Chakwas tapped at a datapad with a frown, “About fifteen hours. Alenko mentioned something occurred with the beacon.”

Alenko crossed his arms over his chest, “It’s my fault. I must have triggered some kind of security field when I approached it. You had to push me out of the way.” Guilt nearly dripped from him as he spoke.

Pashera stopped thinking about her shirt and rubbed her hands over her face as if trying to rub away the pain. In an effort to comfort Alenko she said, “You had no way of knowing that would happen.”

A glimmer of a smile passed his face and she returned to trying to rub away the pain from her own. Her eyes caught sight of her flickering omni tool and she made a mental note to look at it later.

“Actually,” interjected Dr. Chakwas, “we don’t even know if that’s what set if off. Unfortunately, we’ll never get the chance to find out.”

Pashera stopped rubbing her face and she looked up sharply, “What?”

Alenko looked away, “The beacon exploded, ma’am. A system overload maybe. The blast knocked you cold. Williams and I carried you back to the ship.”

Pashera blinked slowly at the news and it felt like a stone had settled in her stomach. They had failed their mission; all those deaths for nothing.  

“Physically, you’re fine.” Dr. Chakways assured her, “I’ve treated the shoulder wound; however, I detected some unusual brain activity,” she added without looking up from her datapad, “abnormal beta waves and increase in your rapid eye movement while you were out. These signs are typically associated with intense dreaming.”

“I-” Pashera paused and tried to find the words, “I’m not sure I was dreaming or… what I saw. Death. Destruction. If it was a vision or I- I don’t know.”

“Hmmm… I’d better add this to my report. It may— Oh, Captain Anderson.”

Anderson had entered the room. His shoulders a tense line as he approached. “How’s our X.O. holding up, Doctor?”

“Her shoulder is already healing nicely and all the readings look normal. …I’d say the Commander’s going to be fine.”    

“Glad to hear it,” Anderson’s stony gaze turned towards Pashera, “Shepard, I need to speak with you—in private.”

Alenko and Chakwas nodded and politely headed out of the room.

Once the door closed, Anderson’s expression softened and he stepped forward and hugged her tightly- carefully avoiding her injured arm. He took a step back and asked, “Are you sure you’re ok, kiddo? It sounds like that beacon hit you pretty hard.”

Pashera looked at the ground. She could tell she had really given him a scare. “I…” She paused and fiddled with the bandage at her injured shoulder, “I’ve been better, dad. Don’t worry …Jenkins and Nihlus. Did someone recover their bodies?”

He eyed her somberly before replying, “Yes. I’ve notified Jenkins’ family already- he was returned to his family before we left.  The other casket is in the cargo hold.” He knew she was lying but he never pressed the issue when she didn’t want to talk.

She nodded.

Sighing, he clasped his hands behind his back, “I won’t lie to you, kid. Things look bad. Nihlus dead. The beacon destroyed and the geth invading. We may be in for a real shitstorm.”

She listened quietly until she realized he was implying that he would make some attempt to protect her from the back-lash. She shook her head, “No. …remember? We talked about this—I am not an official adoption. If people found out, then they would think I got to where I am because you helped me. I— Dad, you can not ruin your career. You are the most decorated soldier in the Alliance. People listen to you more than a simple soldier like me.” She paused to take a breath and she frowned when a thought occurred to her, “And if what I think I saw from that beacon is any indication… it is important to have a voice that people will listen to right now.”

“What you think you saw?”

“Yeah…” she rubbed at her neck with her uninjured arm as she tried to parse out the images that had been burned into her mind, “I don’t know, but I think that beacon might have been a warning. Everything is really unclear but I get the sense that it meant… something.”

Anderson let his breath out slowly like a deflating balloon, “Dammit. Okay.” He rubbed at his chin and fixed her with a concerned look, “How are you holding up after seeing all that down there?”

She frowned, “The smells... It wasn’t Mindoir. But…,” she looked down, her pitch colored curls falling to shield her face, “I’ll be ok.”

He glanced towards the door before giving her another brisk, bone crushing hug while avoiding her shoulder and then swiftly left.

Pashera stood still for a long time. She prayed inwardly for the strength to continue and touched the bandage on her shoulder again while her mind wandered. She was going to need two new butterflies… but how do you rank a Spectre?

Frowning, she headed towards the cargo bay, lost in her own thoughts.

 

~~

 

Alenko waited outside of the Medbay doors. He intended to return and speak to the commander. He wasn’t sure what he would say but the way she had looked when she found out the mission had failed…  He’d tried to look away but he’d still caught a glimpse of it. Her face falling, shoulders slumping, crushing defeat changing her from tough commander to a sweet girl who looked lost in the world.

The doors opened to Captain Anderson and Alenko snapped into a salute.

“Walk with me Alenko,” the Captain said as he headed for the elevator.

The Lieutenant silently cursed himself as he followed. Hope of offering comfort to the commander eroded as he walked away from the medbay doors.

Anderson pressed the button for the elevator and fixed Alenko with an unreadable look, “You mentioned in your report that you thought Chief Williams would be an asset.”

Alenko nodded though it had not sounded like a question, “Yes’sir.”

Anderson stepped into the elevator while rubbing his chin. When Alenko didn’t follow the captain's brow furrowed- Alenko quickly corrected his mistake and joined him. He wasn’t sure why the captain was having him follow so closely.

Standing at attention he faced the doors and remained quiet. The Captain obviously lost in thought until they arrived in the cargo hold.

“Jenkins was returned to his family on Eden Prime.” The Captain began, “Those that survived.” He amended with grim sombretity. “However, I believe the Commander will be holding a service of sorts soon.  I would suggest sticking around,” Anderson seemed distracted as he spoke.  Together they stepped out and Alenko was surprised to see that the Doctor was already down there. Bent to check the readings on the pod that contained Nihlus’ body she tapped something into a datapad and then greeted the Captain as he approached.

Alenko lingered behind and Williams came to join him.

“Hey, so Johnson over in requisition mentioned that the commander is The Butcher. That true?” She asked casually while leaning against one of the nearby crates.

Alenko nodded. He’d never say the name out loud around the commander. Rumor was that saying it could get you shot- though he wasn’t sure he believed that as much now.

She continued, “Scutlbutt is that she’s also the Mindior survivor. Kind of explains the whole Torfan thing if it’s true.”

Alenko frowned and looked at Williams. That made sense, but it was also a very cold observation.

“I guess so,” he answered with a shrug. In spite of his calm demeanor his mind was racing- if she was the survivor from Mindior... how had she been so calm seeing another colony burn? Was she really a cold bitch like everyone thought? Or was her frigid nature a sign of her being upset? Most of all- was she okay?

The elevator whispered open behind him and the commander stepped out.

Without a word she strode past them to stand beside the pod. Thoughtful contemplation on her face as he fingers grazed over the surface.

 

~~

 

Pashera’s eyes fell upon the pod as soon as she stepped from the elevator.

A standard ship casket, it lay quietly on the floor- giving off only a soft hum and the smell of fresh rain on rocks. She never knew why she associated the smell with that, but it was probably because of the cryo-system that preserved the body in frozen suspension. She brushed her hands over the delicate blue-gray tube that held Nihlus’ body. Quietly grieving. After a few moments of silent contemplation she pulled a small bundle from her breast pocket.

To most people it was little more than a rag and small rock, but to her it was so, so much more.

With calm hands she unfolded the rag, and the map that was stitched on it became visible. It was a small hand embroidered map of the galaxy, each star system a delicate stitching- little silver threads glittering for stars. She laid it slowly over the middle of the pod and placed the small rock over the Trebia System where she knew Palavan was located.

The others were watching. She could feel the eyes following her actions with curiosity.

She glanced at Anderson.

It had been a while since he had joined her in this song. Many years ago he had learned the song for her when she had to bury her family. It was one of the reasons she respected and loved the man who she now called father- never once did he shy away or mock her beliefs or customs.

She knelt and clasped her hands into the symbol of the guiding arrow. Humming the tune to remind herself of the cadence. When she felt ready she began to sing; her voice rich and soft.

 

**

_Oh war-riors /of this dark sea,_

_Brave souls now rest/ please be at ease_

_Your war is done/ new journeys begun,_

_I pray now/ for courage to thee_

_Journey long/ may this guide ye_

_Light of sun, glow of moon_

_Breath of fire, Depth of sea_

_Strength of rock, let these guide thee_

_Long road lead/ these homeward souls_

_Great wind carry them/ should they fall_

_Grant them peace, grant them peace._

**

 

Through the song she could hear Anderson’s soft baritone voice joining hers, and when they finished there was no sound but the quiet inner purr of the ship.

In the silence she gathered up the stone and cloth, aware that she had the attention of many eyes and ears. She didn’t really feel like talking, but she knew there would be questions. There always were.

A soft shuffle of footsteps came from her left where Alenko and Williams stood. She glanced to see Gunnery Chief Williams wearing cross expression.

 

~~

 

Alenko watched as the commander placed a few small items on the casket and began to sing.

Her voice was hauntingly lovely and every word  seemed to spill forth with the utmost care.  Alenko was surprised when Anderson joined in. The captain appeared to know the words, though he uttered them as more of a chant than a song.

When it was over, she began to fold away the items. Hands nimble even with her shoulder injury. She hadn’t even bothered to change yet. Clothes still torn and slightly bloody. To Alenko that said a lot. The fact that she would come down here to sing over the dead before taking care of herself spoke volumes. However, it raised just as many questions as it answered. Maybe more.

Beside him, Williams shifted uncomfortably as the Commander pushed up from the ground.

  
“Do you have a question, Chief?” Commander Shepard asked mildly.

Williams crossed her arms in front of her chest and rocked back onto one leg like an angry child. Her words launched from her mouth like torpedoes meant to sink a ship, “Didn’t you already pray for him?” she asked, her tone accusatory, “I’ve never heard a service like that… and why was it for multiple and not singular?”

Alenko watched as  the commander took a deep breath through her nose before answering. Her face the same impassive stare as she said, “That was a mourner’s song, not a prayer. Guidance- for the souls that are moving on. It is… less a formal service and more my way of saying goodbye. Today, his was not the only life lost- just the only body present. In truth, I sang for all those who have died.”

The commander’s eyes seemed almost silver and her sadness was damn near palpable. ‘I sang for all those who have died.’ The words echoed in Alenko’s mind as he watched her. He could see now that she had indeed been bothered by what happened to the colony but was hiding behind an impassive mask.

 

~~

 

Pashera stared at Williams and hoped she understood. Although Pashera wore her typical blank expression, pain from all the needless deaths pulled fine lines around her eyes and her icy blues shone pale silver with her grief. She never spoke of it but she hated to see the loss of life. Even if she believed they would find peace afterwards, it ate at her soul.

Williams looked like she had more to say, but her mouth formed a small ‘oh’ and she quickly walked away to the nearby gunnery bench. Pashera suspected that Williams had thought of her lost crew. She watched the gunnery chief retreat and hoped that in time the pain of losing a squad would grant the woman patience and wisdom.

In the corner Pashera could hear the Doctor asking Anderson how he knew the song.  Truthfully, Anderson answered that Pashera had taught it to him when he was stationed on Mindoir. It was a small connection that was known in most Alliance circles- Anderson had been part of the squad that found the sole survivor at Mindoir thirteen years ago.

Alenko shifted while looking uncomfortable, “Uhm…”

Pashera inclined her head towards the elevator and said, “Walk with me? I need to head to the cockpit to speak with Joker.”

With a nod from Alenko, they fell in step together. As they walked he said, “I’m glad to see you’re ok, Commander. Oh… and I fixed your visor. It fell when we were carrying you back.” He handed her the small partial visor that she typically wore and she nodded her thanks as she slipped it on. Few people knew of its true purpose- it had a correctional view program built in. Her right eye had been damaged when she had earned her facial scar. Through her headache from the beacon she failed to notice it missing.

“How has the crew been handling the death of Jenkins?” She asked quietly while pressing the call button for the elevator.

“It’s been hard. I think I can speak for everyone that we’re glad we didn’t lose you, too. Hell of a shakedown cruise though.”

She hmm’ed in reply.

The elevator whispered open and they stepped inside. Alenko pressed the button for the crew deck and for a few minutes they stood in silence. The elevator was taking forever; top of the line ship and the elevator was still molasses slow due to an issue with it trying to function against the ships mass effect gravity system. Everything had a drawback somewhere. At least it wasn’t stairs.

He broke the silence, “So, uh… I gotta ask. What was the deal with the stone and cloth?” His eyes traveled to the pocket that she carried them in before flicking away to eye the elevator console.

She wanted to smile at his curiosity but pain and weariness kept it from reaching her face.

Her hands pulled the bundle out of her pocket and she unfolded the fabric. The delicate stitching of the star systems glittered in compliment to the small stone in her palm. Holding it aloft she said, “This cloth is a map of the known galaxy. Is it to help the spirit navigate their journey on the long road or star road to their chosen destination. The stone is a Galaxite stone- a type of moonstone. It is used for healing and illumination on the spirit’s journey.” She pointed at the small pale blue stone that was set into the middle, “that is a Dumortierite stone. It is believed to be the beacon to guide the spirit. The stone is to help them cope with the situation and give them the patience for whatever journey they may now be undertaking.”  She folded the cloth around the small stone once more and returned it to its position in her breast pocket, the elevator doors slid open and she stepped out with Alenko.

“Wait… you placed it over the cluster for the Turian homeworld didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What if he isn’t from there?”

She was quiet for a moment before replying, “It is meant to help. Like a suggestion or guide post if you will. Where they go… is up to them.”

****Without waiting for the conversation to continue, she headed up the stairs on her way to the cockpit.

Alenko didn’t follow.

Solemn faces and salutes greeted her as she passed through the control hub. Although this team had not had a lot of time together, it was never easy to lose a crew member.  Resentment and anger burned in her throat at Saren’s actions and her mission’s failure. Briefing the council was going to be difficult, and her chances of becoming a Spectre were now very slim.  She entered the cockpit silently and stood near her favorite pilot, Jeff ‘Joker’ Moreau. She loved his jokes- typically crass and inappropriate. She’d never been very good at humor- though she tried. This was probably why it was his nickname that was ‘Joker’ and not hers.

“Good timing, Commander.” Joker’s energetic voice broke into her reverie as he noticed her, “I was just about to bring us into the Citadel. See that taxpayer money at work.”

Clasping her hands behind her back to keep from fidgeting, she glanced out the window towards the structure coming into view. It looked like a large daisy to her… and although impressive, she had always associated it with death because of its shape. It was a silly superstition to have. She smiled to herself and watched their approach.

Her eyes locked onto a large ship that was nearby- the flagship of the Citadel Fleet.  It was gigantic and reminded her of the old earth books that spoke of aquatic animals- it looked like something mixed between a whale and a stingray.

“Citadel control, this is SSV Normandy requesting permission to dock,” Joker’s hands never seem to stop moving as he adjusted their flight path to the docking section.

A gruff male voice replied, “ _Stand by for clearance, Normandy._ ” A short pause, “ _Clearance granted. You may begin your approach. Transferring you to and Alliance operator._ ”

Pashera glanced down. Joker’s near permanent grin was barely visible past the lip of his hat, “Roger that, Citadel control.” He always had a smile like he was listening to his own private jokes. In hindsight- he probably was.

A different voice came over the coms, “ _Normandy, this is Alliance tower. Please proceed to dock 422._ ”

Pashera turned away, heading off to put her hair up and change into her soft armor. _Now to face the orchestra_ , she mused.

Ten minutes later she stood stiffly at attention and was fighting a growing headache as the yelling across the room continued.

“This is an OUTRAGE!” Ambassador Udina sputtered at the holographic images of the Citadel Council. “The council would be doing something if the attack was made on a TURIAN colony!”

 _“The Turians don’t found colonies on the borders of the Terminus Systems, Ambassador,”_ The robed Salarian councilor stated with a dismissive hand gesture. Pashera frowned. Eden Prime was on the border and not actually in the Terminus Systems. It was still technically in Citadel space- to hear the council attempt to ignore that fact left a disturbing impression.

The blue Asari Councilor inclined her head slightly in agreement to the Salarian’s claim, _“Humanity was well aware of the risks when you went into the Traverse.”_

Ambassador Udina sputtered in outrage, “What about Saren? You can’t just ignore a rogue Spectre. I DEMAND action!”

Pashera desperately wanted to rub her temples. Although she agreed with Udina, his shouting and lack of diplomacy was painful, and her head still ached from the beacon incident.  She rolled her shoulders slightly and made eye contact with Anderson. She could see he was enjoying this as little as she was by the stony, tight lipped, frown he wore.

The Turian Councilor bristled, _“You don’t get to make demands of the Council, Ambassador.”_

Calmly, the Asari Councilor cut in, _“Citadel Security is investigating your charges against Saren. We will discuss the C-Sec findings at the hearing. Not before.”_

With that, the holographic figures flicked off. Udina looked like he might have started spitting glass tacks as he rounded on Anderson and Pashera.  “Captain Anderson,” he sneered, “I see you brought half your crew with you.”

Alenko and Williams had decided to pretend the Ambassador didn’t exist as they looked out over the balcony. Pashera somewhat wished to join them in giving Udina the cold shoulder, but she didn’t want to disappoint Anderson. She remained at attention but chose to focus on the far wall instead of the Ambassador’s livid red face.

Anderson calmly gestured at the team, “Just the ground team from Eden Prime. In case you had any questions.”

Udina’s face was a mask of contempt, “I have the mission reports. I assume they’re accurate?”

A quick nod from Anderson, “They are. …It sounds like you convinced the Council to give us an audience.”

“They were not happy about it,” Udina snapped in response. “Saren’s their top agent. They don’t like him being accused of treason. And YOU commander,” Udina focused on Pashera with a nasty expression, “you’ve done more than enough to jeopardize your candidacy for the Spectres.”

Pashera concentrated on her breathing. Showing how angry she was at this point would do no good; though she did briefly imagine giving him a little biotic toss over the balcony. Though the thought pleased her, she settled with locking eyes with the ambassador and began counting silently to 100.

Udina didn’t seem to notice her anger and continued to rant, “The mission on Eden Prime was a chance to prove you could get the job done. Instead, Nihlus ended up dead and the beacon was destroyed!”

Anderson interrupted him heatedly, “That’s Saren’s fault, not hers!”

Pashera avoided eye contact with Anderson. They had long ago agreed that he wouldn’t be overly defensive in situations like this, but here he was yelling on her behalf. Partially, she was thankful, but it also angered and worried her. She clamped her teeth together tightly and wished that he would drop the issue. Although she was not looking forward to it, she was going to take whatever punishment was coming.

While clasping his hands behind his back Udina said, “Then we better hope the C-Sec investigation turns up evidence to support the accusations. Otherwise the Council might use this as an excuse to keep her out of the Spectres.”

Pashera pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and concentrated hard on keeping a neutral face; she was not going to give into the temptation of losing her temper.

Udina sighed, “Okay, Come with me, Captain. I want to go over a few things before the hearing. Shepard,” he focused on Pashera again, “you and the… others are to meet us at the Citadel Tower. Top Level. I’ll make sure you get clearance to enter.”

With that he turned and stalked away, Anderson following closely behind.

Williams watched him go while shaking her head. “And that’s why I hate politicians.”

Alenko nodded in agreement.

Once Udina was out of site Pashera relaxed her shoulders and walked over to brace herself on the balcony overlooking the cultivated perfection of the citadel. Sighing, she closed her eyes and turned her head to the artificial sunlight. If there was one thing she missed it was being able to enjoy the sunlight. Living aboard ships meant little to no sunlight for long periods of time. Often they used little lamps to keep away depression on ships.

She stood soundlessly for a few minutes before she turned and with heavy resignation she said, “Alright, ...let us catch a cab to the Tower.”

The ride was splendidly uneventful and took a dissatisfying short amount of time. Pashera relished the chance to lean her head back and relax a little. Her body was an aching mess. She hadn’t hurt like this in ages. Whatever the beacon had done to her was making her body feel like a massive walking bruise. Within minutes, the Taxi was pulling away and she was left grouchily heading past security towards the inner section of the Tower.

As the doors slid open her eyes were led upwards to the soft lighting and pale pink trees that formed a walkway. Leaves drifted down only to be sucked away by a filtration system. The effect was peaceful but also an eerie artificial.

As they walked forward Pashera could hear Turian voices raised slightly in anger. Two Turians stood arguing beside a fountain.  As she approached she could make out what they were saying.  
  
“Saren’s hiding something! Give me more time. Stall them.”

“Stall the Council?” The Turian wearing a red suit scowled, “don’t be ridiculous! Your investigation is over, Garrus.”

With that, he turned and walked away from the one called Garrus who stood frowning at the retreating form.  The tall grey turian's head turned and he spotted Pashera as she approached.  With a slight incline of his head he asked, “Commander Shepard?”

She nodded.

“Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren.” As he spoke, he adjusted and smoothed the shirt of his blue C-Sec uniform. It was a move of practiced and old habit.

Pashera could feel her heart sinking at his words.

In context, it sounded like evidence was lacking for the upcoming trial. His blue eyes met with her own, and she knew they were in trouble. She felt the urge to turn heel and find the nearest bar. Instead, she stayed silent and looked Garrus over slowly… maybe if she asked he would join her- he looked like he could use a drink at this point. Tension was evident in his posture and his plated brow was furrowed with anger.

“May I ask what your findings were?” She asked.

“Saren’s a Spectre. Most of his activities are classified. I couldn’t find anything solid,” he replied while giving a small shake of his head, “But I know he’s up to something. Like you humans say, I feel it in my gut.”

He shifted and stepped aside, “Anyhow, Executor Pallin will be presenting my finding soon. Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they’ll listen to you.”

Pashera resisted the urge to laugh. From what she had seen earlier- that was as unlikely as her growing wings and flying in space without a ship.

Squaring her shoulders, she headed up the stairs.

 

~~

 

“The investigation by Citadel Security turned up no evidence to support your charge of treason.” The Turian Councilor pronounced with an air of pride.

Pashera felt the burn of anger as she realized that the Turian Councilor would do anything to keep the ‘turian honor’ from being tarnished. She turned her attention to the far windows and proceeded to ignore the majority of yelling and pointless bicker that was now occurring between Ambassador Udina and the Council.  A flickering hologram of Saren stood nearby as he defended himself and pointed blame to others. Why someone accused of treason was even involved this early in a hearing against themselves was beyond her. Space politics. As little sense as Earth politics but at least there was solidarity in that it was universally idiotic.

“Commander, do you have anything else to add?”

The question was directed at her and she snapped back to attention. She gave a tired shake of her head, “You’ve made your decision, what I say won’t change that.” Her patience was wearing thin. Although she had been out cold for more than twice what she gets in a night’s rest-- she was bone tired and finding it difficult to remain diplomatic. The urge to call them fools and storm from the platform was growing and her back was tense.

“The Council has found no evidence of any connection between Saren and the Geth. Ambassador, your petition to have him disbarred from the Spectres is denied.” The Asari Councilor spoke gently but assertively.  

Udina’s shoulders slumped, and a nasty expression crossed his face. Pashera had the feeling that he was going to take it out on whoever was nearby after the meeting.

“ _I’m glad to see justice was served_ ,” sneered Saren before his holo-emitter flicked off.

“This meeting is adjourned,” The council announced and then walked away from their podiums.

Everyone turned to leave, and they filed out of the circular room. Pashera was glad to go- having to look up to see the councilors had been uncomfortable enough, but the platform they were required to stand on was just a partial ramp over a pit. It was pretty in its own way. Glass covered the pit-like section which held a small little park. The grass was gently lit by small lights and those same peachy colored trees could be seen. Pashera had no issue with heights but she still found that being forced to stand on a narrow ledge above a pit to be an annoyance.

She frowned. _Was she really going to just let this Saren thing slide?_ She stopped short when a thought struck her.

“Captain?” she called out to Anderson.

Anderson turned towards her, “Yes, Shepard?”

“The C-Sec officer that was conducting the investigation… he mentioned just needing a little more time to get the evidence needed.”

Anderson rubbed his chin and gave a nod, “It may be good to chase him down. I also suggest speaking to Barla Von over in the financial district. Rumor has it that he’s an agent for the Shadow Broker. If you are thinking to try to find other evidence I would recommend trying that route.” Obviously he had been thinking on finding evidence as well.

“The Shadow Broker, sir?”

“An information dealer. Buys and sells secrets to the highest bidder. One of my contacts says that Barla Von’s one of the top representatives. It won’t be cheap, but there is a good chance he might know something about Saren.”

Pashera rubbed her fingers over her palm nervously. Going to an information broker seemed slightly over the top, but with the circumstances they were facing- over the top might just be the answer.  “Alright, I will check it out.”

Thinking back on the meeting with the council she asked, “I have not asked before, but… what is the history between you and Saren?”

Anderson stiffened and turned away, “About twenty years ago, I was part of a mission in the Skyllian Verge. I was working with Saren to find and remove a known terrorist threat.” He frowned in remembrance, “Saren eliminated his target, but a lot of people died along the way. Innocent people. The official records just covered it all up.”

Angrily he shook his head, “But I saw how he operates. No conscience. No hesitation. He’d kill a thousand innocent civilians to end a war without a second thought.”

“Killing innocents does not end wars. It causes them,” Pashera spoke vehemently while making a slashing motion with her hand.

Anderson nodded, “We all know that sometimes sacrifices need to be made, Shepard, but Saren makes needless sacrifices without looking for alternatives. That’s why finding evidence is so important.”  

Pashera rubbed the back of her neck and considered her options. Her best bet was to head down to the C-Sec offices and see if she could speak with the detective; however, the financial district was on the way so it might save time to simply speak with this information dealer.

“Well, I’m heading off to the Ambassador’s offices,” Anderson said as he walked away, “Good luck, kid.”

Pashera turned towards Williams and Alenko who had been quietly waiting in the background, “You two should take this time for a break,” She glanced down at her flickering omni tool band. She pressed a button and it still seemed to work well enough for her to double-check that she had their contact data. “I can reach you on the comms. No doubt you both could use a little R&R after Eden Prime though.”

They both hesitated, but the urge to take some down-time won. With a salute they both turned and headed for the exit; grinning and talking about looking for a place to eat.

Now that she was alone, Pashera walked over to an empty bench and sat down to think. She had not worked with an information broker before but she figured that it may be tricky. Alliance pay and funds weren’t exactly great for large credit transactions.  She might have to barter knowledge for knowledge- but what was worth that. She had a little money saved up but that was not how she had thought it was going to be spent.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Food had sounded good too- when was the last time she had actually eaten? Damn. Had she forgotten again? She ran her hand over her face and stared moodily at the tall ceiling while deciding what to do.

 _Financial, C-Sec, Food_. That sounded fair. It would be nice to eat something that wasn’t freeze dried military rations, but she was sure that there must be some ‘on the go’ type of food available if something came up.

As she got up she stretched and gave a little yawn. The quiet atmosphere was making her drowsy, so she decided walk instead of risking sitting down again. She walked quickly to the elevator while pulling up a map on her omni-tool. After choosing what level she wanted she leaned against her back of the elevator. With her course planned she closed the map display and eyed the elevator level counter. The elevator wasn’t as slow as the one on the Normandy, but it still felt as if it was taking longer than she cared for.

A sinister feeling in her gut had her wondering if she was hungrier than she had thought or if there may be trouble ahead. Her hand wandered to her holster where her pistol was folded. Thankfully, her status allowed her to carry a weapon within the citadel- if there was trouble she planned to be ready for it.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft swish, and she set out. If she read the map right she should be in the right area by just crossing over a bridge. She set off at a fast walk towards the long bridge that curved out in front of her.  She paused around midway over the bridge to eye the large statue that sat on the lake; it was shaped like a Mass Relay and made her inner ear itch with a strange hum.

As she walked she looked around the area. Trees and fountains dotted this area like a giant park. The air systems made the tree leaves rustle softly like they would from a gentle breeze. Although superficial, she was enjoying the view. It wasn’t too long of walking before she was standing before a door marked, ‘Barla Von, Financial Consultant’. She chewed at her lip and hoped that Anderson’s information was correct.

The door slid open with barely a whisper of sound and she could see a Volus standing behind three holographic monitors. The short, round creature was in the typical enviro-suit that volus had to wear in low pressure environments with oxygen. His breath came in hissing gasps through his suit as he rapidly punched buttons and Pashera had to resist the urge to back out of the doorway.  She stood frozen as she fought with herself.

That bastard.

Anderson knew that of all races the one that Pashera had a slight phobia of was the volus. The sound of their breathing scared her silly and the eyes to their suits unnerved her. Anderson obviously hadn’t told her because he was aware that she wouldn’t have gone if he had.

She ground her teeth and walked forward.

The Volus looked up and his three fingered hands stopped. He seemed to stare at her for a long time before he said, “Ah, you are the one called Shepard, yes?” His suited head tilted, “You were at Torfan, correct? You led the final assault against the enemy base, if memory serves.”

If she had any doubts on his being an information broker they were now erased by his open display of awareness to who she was, and she felt a small sense of relief.  Putting on a polite but strained smile, she inclined her head briefly and responded, “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Forgive me, Earth-clan. My name is Barla Von. – _sssskkt_ \- My job makes it necessary for me to keep informed.”  The lights on his suit where eyes would normally be located blinked as he spoke. “I am a financial advisor – _sssskkt_ \- to many important clients here on the Citadel. When someone as important as yourself arrives on the Station, I take notice.”

She blinked.

Being called important was not common for her- although she was considered a war hero in some areas or a hated monster in others, she always viewed herself more-or-less as just another simple soldier. Her skin crawled as he sucked another breath. The strain was making her edgy and she decided to cut to the chase, “I have heard you work for the Shadow Broker. I need to find some information about a Spectre named Saren.”

His less that quiet breathing seemed louder than normal in the lingering silence as he seemed to weigh his words, “I see. …You knew more that you led me to believe. But you are right. I am an agent for the Shadow Broker, and I do have some information you may desire about Saren.”

Pashera mentally braced herself for whatever the price quote was going to be and fervently hopped she might be able to exchange some type of information instead.

He waved a hand and continued, “Normally, this information would cost a small fortune,” his suit sucked air loudly, “but this is an exceptional circumstance. I’m going to give it to you for free.”

She could feel her eyebrow rise as she fixed him with her blue stare.  Incredulity at his statement was settling on her face as he explained, “The Shadow Broker is quite upset with Saren right now. – _sssskkt_ \- They used to do a lot of business.” He put his hands on his hips, “until Saren turned on him.”

Her mouth formed a tight line; Nihlus’ death fresh in her mind. It seemed that Saren was making a lot of enemies very quickly.

Barla von shook his head slightly, “I don’t know the details, but the Shadow Broker – _ssssskt_ \- hired a freelancer to deal with it. A krogan mercenary.”

“To kill Saren?”

“Not quite. I suggest you speak with the krogan if you want to learn more. – _ssskt_ \- I heard he was paying a visit to Citadel Security. – _sssskkt_ \- If you hurry, you my catch up to him.”

“ _Dhanyavaad_ , Barla Von.”

“Excuse me, but my translator seemed  - _sssskt_ \- to have an issue with that.”

Pashera bowed, “Apologies- I was giving my thanks.”

“My pleasure, Commander.”

Pashera retreated as quickly and politely as she could; Fear making her back stiff and her phobia of the sound of the volus’ breath made her anxious.

She glanced around once she was outside in an attempt to get her bearings and calm herself.  Directional arrows pointed her to another elevator for C-Sec and she set off. It wasn’t long before she was carefully stepping down the C-Sec steps. As she descended a loud and particularly dangerous sounding conversation reached her ears.

“Witnesses saw you making threats in Fist’s bar,” a human officer was bravely berating a large krogan, “You need to stay away from him.”

 

~~

 

Wrex was annoyed.

So far nothing had gone according to plan. Blowing buildings. C-Sec called on him. Old mercenary ‘friends’ trying to keep him from his target. Now this tiny human male was pushing all the wrong buttons, and Wrex was losing his temper.

The krogan jabbed a gloved finger in the officer’s face, “I don’t take orders from you.” He growled his words and the stink of fear from the man rolled to Wrex’s nose. The wimp still held his ground though.

The officer puffed his chest, “This is your only warning, Wrex.”

Wrex’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward menacingly, “You should warn Fist. I *WILL* kill him.” At this point Wrex was looking forward to it. In fact he planned to use the shotgun and make it as messy as possible. Fuck this day. Fuck this job.

Exasperation creeped into the officer's face and voice, “Do you *want* me to arrest you?”

A dangerous grin formed on the Wrex’s reptile like face as he leaned towards the human, “I want you to try.” Sure a fight with the whole of C-Sec would be stupid but he was itching for a fight after holding back so much. His temper was like a pot of water beginning to boil and he was 100% done.

 

~~

 

Pashera started towards the arguing party; this must be the krogan that Barla Von had spoken of. She looked over him as she approached. He looked to be on the older side of things- his faceplate was fully formed and the markings had become a rich dark purple with age.

 

~~

 

Wrex caught sight of movement as a human female approached.

Her walk was sturdy, confident, and dangerous. She interested him and caught his attention; there was intent in her steps and he was sure that she was looking for him. Shouldering aside the officer that had been annoying him he walked towards her.

 

~~

 

Pashera watched the krogan take notice of her. He shoved his way past the officer he’d been arguing with and for a second it looked as if the officer might press the issue. Instead, the man shook his head and walked away in the other direction. Probably the first preservational act he'd made that day.

She actually felt a mild amount of alarm at the krogans approach; he towered over her and she could smell his biotics. This was not just a merc- this was a krogan battlemaster. One of the few krogan warriors that could use biotics. Should he become hostile- it would be a difficult battle. More-so with her injury.

“Yes, Human?” He stood over her; a walking mass of menace. His hump was covered in red armor that gave a creak to his walk- she made a guess that it was a leather like material. She blinked- it meant he valued speed and tactics. An uncommon trait in krogan.

She took a deep breath and said, “Are you the krogan hired by the Shadow Broker? Barla Von said to talk to you.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned his head to fix a deep red eye on her. “Barla Von is a wise man. …It seems we may share a common goal, human.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I’ve been hired to kill the owner of Chora’s Den. A man named Fist. He did something very foolish.” The large krogan shifted and moved closer until his face was inches from her own. She remained still and met his gaze fiercely. His intimidation tactics were lost on her- her father had taught her a lot about the krogan power rituals.

This krogan was trying to gain dominance and she was not going to fall for it.

 

~~

 

Wrex leaned in to threaten her. No fear from her the way the man had smelt of it. She was weary of him but she smelled sweet- like flowers. Her eyes were like the pale blue of the hottest fires as she stared back at him. A true warrior.

Eventually, she gave a nonchalant shrug, “He betrayed the Shadow Broker?”

Wrex nodded and stepped back slightly; she had passed his test- for now.

He crossed his arms as he spoke, “A quarian showed up here on the Citadel. She was on the run. She wanted to trade information for a safe place to hide… so she went to Fist. He promised to arrange a meeting between her and the Shadow Broker. Instead, he contacted Saren.”

“I see why they call him Fist and not Brain,” she said in perfect deadpan; though her eyes sparkled with humor.

Wrex gave a gravelly chuckle at her attempted joke, “Yeah… well, he’s greedy. Saren paid him a small fortune for the quarian. He had to. She has evidence connecting him to the geth.”

 

~~

 

Pashera nodded slowly. Barla von had certainly pointed her in the right direction. If she could find this quarian then they would have the evidence they needed. “Where is the quarian now?”

Wrex scratched his chin as if thinking, “Last I heard, Fist still had her. Probably somewhere inside his club.” He paused and looked at her as if sizing her up, “You help me kill Fist, she’s all yours.”

Pashera extended a hand, “I think it may be time we paid Fist a visit. I am Commander Shepard.”

The Krogan grasped her hand firmly, “Urdnot Wrex.”

Even with only three fingers his hand dwarfed hers. He gave a little squeeze and she could tell he was being gentle; however, it still felt like she had put her hand into a mechanical vice.  She grinned and her eyes traced the long scars on his reptilian face. It was looking like this might be a fun evening. Krogan always had the best parties.

Her mind stalled as she ran through her other intended purpose for visiting C-Sec, “If you don’t mind, Wrex, I need to ask about a turian named Garrus before we head off.”

Dark crimson eyes regarded her, “He was here just before you showed up. Said he was going to follow up a lead on his investigation. Wanted to speak to the doctor at the nearby med clinic.”

She raised an eyebrow. There were times that she forgot how very observant some of the good krogan warriors could be. Wrex inclined his head towards a set of stairs, “It’s on the way to the club. We can see if he’s still there on our way by.”

Pashera gave a curt nod and headed for the stairs.

They walked without speaking. His red plated head swiveling slightly as he scanned the hall- alert for danger even now. Her hand wandered to her pistol to check it again. If he was expecting trouble then she was going to be ready as well. She felt herself from a small grin while thinking how thankful she was for also being a biotic- it was nice knowing they couldn’t be fully disarmed. The grin faded and she wondered if she would have time for a battle prayer. Although she was not shy about her religion, she did prefer to keep it private- she decided that she would stop to give a prayer once they reached the club as there was bound to be something of a scuffle there.

It wasn’t long before they had come to the doors of the clinic. She noted that it was probably close to the C-Sec  headquarters in case someone was injured on the job.  She glanced at Wrex as she thought- _possibly if they were injured from picking a fight with a 300 pound krogan._

Then again, it’s not many who need a doctor after that, a priest maybe- but not a doctor.  

Raised voices beyond the door caught her attention and she regretted not taking the time for a battle prayer or to put on the extra head scarf she carried in her pocket. She quickly slipped out her pistol and it unfolded in her hand.  There was hope that this was nothing and she wouldn’t need it, but she wanted to be cautious rather than dead.

The doors opened on an interesting situation.

“I didn’t tell anyone. I swear!” A young human doctor, her eyes wide with terror, was backing away from a man holding a gun. The man stood well above her and was a wall of muscle and malice. Not as big as a krogan but certainly nearing a similar intimidation factor.

The turian detective Garrus was crouched with his gun drawn and moving slowly along the decorative half wall that separated the waiting room from where patients were treated. Briefly, Pashera admired the ease at which he moved while crouching. Turians were lucky in that their digigrade leg structure allowed for ease of movement for everything but walking. Pashera was always reminded of ducks when she saw Turians walking because they gained an interesting waddle.

As she stepped into the clinic she could see that there were more men standing behind the young doctor. Their entry into the room hadn’t been noticed yet.

“That’s smart,” the man growled while waving a pistol in the terrified doctor’s face, “Now if Garrus comes around, you stay smart. Keep your mouth shut or we’ll—“

 Eyes snapped towards Pashera and Wrex as they stepped into view.

“Well, _mala_ ,” she muttered under her breath as she brought her pistol up.

The lead thug quickly grabbed the doctor to use as a shield and pointed his pistol at them, “Who are you?” He yelled.

“Let her go,” Pashera said softly as her partial visor began its aim assist functions. In these conditions there was little useful information- no wind currents, low visibility, or great distance. Her aim at this range was more than adequate.

Once she had the thug’s attention Garrus slipped around the corner, sly as a cat, and took aim.

 **KRACK**.

His pistol fired with a sound like a loud whip snap.

The young doctor screamed and the thug who’d been holding her collapsed to the floor like a heavy sack. Thankfully the doctor seemed to have good instincts- dodging quickly under a nearby desk that would shield her from most stray bullets. Garrus stalked forward with his weapon raised and aimed at the next thug. The four thugs left backed away from him with grimaces and weapons raised.  

It was over quickly.

The fools had chosen to open fire instead of dropping their weapons. Wrex, Garrus, and Pashera had each fired on the most visible one. The poor man never had a chance. Another thug had made the mistake of taking refuge behind a tall crate- Wrex had kicked it over and stood on it while making paste of the thug's nearby friend. Pashera slammed the last against the wall with her biotics and put two rounds in his chest.

She had to resist the urge to make a poor joke on how it was good they had been in a place that had the equipment to clean up blood. Kneeling, she checked that all of the thugs were dead and offered their souls a small prayer.

A whimper brought her attention back to the young doctor who was standing up from her hiding place. Her soft red hair was slightly out of place where her hands had covered her ears during the firefight.

“Perfect timing, Shepard. Gave me a clear shot at that bastard,” Garrus said while clicking his folded gun into his lower back holster.

Pashera narrowed her eyes and fixed a scathing look at him, “Risky.”

A look of surprise crossed his cool features and it seemed to take him a moment to process what she meant. As Realization edged over his features, he turned to the doctor and his blue eyes looked her over, “I—Dr. Michel? Are you hurt?”

Dr. Michel ran her hand over her hair in an attempt to calm herself, “No. I’m ok. Thanks to you,” She looked at Wrex and Pashera, “All of you.”

Pashera nodded. Although she had considered the move risky she had actually been very impressed. It had been a clean shot and probably only scared the doctor more and anything. His quick shooting showed considerable skill. She hated not being able to praise his actions but she had learned long ago that soldiers needed to be reminded that there were consequences for quick actions when civilians were involved. Something someone should have reminder her of in the past.

Turning her attention to the doctor she asked,“Dr. Michel, I know you may be shaken but do you know who those men worked for?”  

Dr. Michel wrung her hands as she spoke in a shaken tone, “They worked for Fist. They were sent to keep me from telling Garrus about the quarian.”

“Huh,” Wrex grunted, “all roads lead to the same place.”

Agitated, Garrus growled, “She must have the evidence that I need. There is no way the Council could ignore it then.”

Pashera nodded, “It’s time to pay this Fist a visit.”

Garrus stood straighter and faced Pashera, “This is your show, Shepard. But I want to bring Saren down as much as you do. I’m coming with you.”

Garrus looked like he was ready to fight her on the issue. She could almost see him forming his arguments of why he should come. She gave a slight incline of her head and said, “Welcome aboard.”

His genuine surprise at her acceptance was visible as his mandibles dropped slightly like a human going slack-jawed. She fought down a smile and began to turn to leave when an idea struck her. She turned towards the doctor, “Dr. Michel, do you have any nutrition pills for patients who donated or lost blood?”

The doctor's eyes wandered towards the bodies on the floor, “I-I…” she stammered.

“For me doctor,” Pashera said with a slight smile.

“Oh, were you hurt in the fight?” the Doctor stepped forward while her eyes danced over Pashera in search of a wound.

Pashera shook her head and felt a little embarrassed, “It has been awhile since I have eaten and low blood sugar makes for shaky hands in a firefight.”

Dr. Michel nodded and moved towards the far desk. She could be heard muttering something about the Alliance not properly feeding their soldiers while she dug through a little drawer. She quickly returned with two small rounded packs and a small pill. She held up the pill, “Nutrition pill,”  She gave a tight smile and held out the round packages, “and these are just a couple of cookies. It’s not much but it should get enough sugar into your blood to keep you going for another hour or two.”  She frowned at Pashera, “but it's doctor’s orders that you get a proper meal when you can- these pills really are only for dire circumstances.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pashera said with a small smile.

“And Shepard…”

The doctor took Pashera’s hand and held it, “Thank you.”

 

~~

 

As the group left the clinic, Pashera quickly swallowed the pill and then set to trying to open the small metallic packages.  She could see Wrex eyeing it with quiet curiosity.

“Would you like one?” She asked looking from Garrus to Wrex. Garrus quietly shook his head. She had not expected him to accept- Turian’s couldn’t quite eat the same foods as Levo based life forms but she had not wished to appear rude. She wondered if perhaps it was more rude to offer and felt a sense of frustration over the complexities of culture and race.

Wrex held a facial expression of vague suspicion while asking, “What is a ‘cookie’? My translator doesn’t seem to know the word.”

Pashera stopped walking, she had not traveled with many other species in the past so she had never thought of the issues the translator might have for items like food. She searched for the words but couldn’t seem to find one that she liked. She settled with saying, “It’s a type of sweet. Typically bread based. My colony called them biscuits but that can mean different things depending where from people are from on earth.” She gave a little shrug and returned her attention to opening the package. She always struggled with these ration type packages when she had gloves on. For all her skills- a tiny foil packet was her worst enemy.

“Here, let me.” Garrus extended his hand out towards her. His expression was a curious sort of wry humor and his eyes were alight with quiet laughter.

Feeling silly she handed over the package. She looked away from him when she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks from embarrassment. Garrus quickly opened the package and handed it back. His six fingers far more nimble than her ten- she felt annoyed and embarrassed all over again.

“ _Dhanyavaad_ ,” she said stiffly while trying to avoid eye contact.

Garrus' mandibles went tight in a frown, “Sorry. Translator doesn’t seem to know that one.”

Pashera sighed and switched to a more common language, “Apologies. I said ‘thank you’. My translator still struggles with the language from my father’s home. I do not speak it as often or as well as I would like. The Alliance prefers us to use one of four ‘common’ languages.”

She gave a mental eye-roll at the idea of a ‘common’ language. Of course it was common if it was forced on people, but taking away some of the more beautiful languages simply because you didn’t want to program things into a translator… it seemed foolish and lazy.

Deftly, she reached in and snapped the biscuit in half and offered a portion to Wrex. He eyed it warily before accepting.

She sniffed at her half of the cookie and resisted a frown- the artificial peanut butter smell assaulted her nose. She was not overly fond of peanut butter.  “These are in the ‘peanut butter’ flavour it seems,” she said while staring down at her half.

He sniffed at it warily before giving a little shrug and popping it into his mouth.  His expression was a cautious thoughtful while he chewed. Little emotion showed of his opinion and she took a small bite from her own half.

They began walking again.

She could already feel the nutrient pill making her feel more awake and alert as her body absorbed the needed vitamins. She had to resist the urge to simply not eat her portion of the biscuit- she knew she needed something to fuel her biotics for any possible upcoming fight. For a short burst this was the best option.

They passed through the soft chatter of the lower ward marketplace in relative silence. Wrex was still apparently chewing and contemplating the cookie. Pashera had finished her’s quickly and put the second package away in one of her armored thigh pocket. She had forced herself to eat her half of the open one but her stomach rebelled at the idea of another. She consoled herself in that although she had promised the doctor to eat soon; she wasn’t sure when she would actually next get a chance. She felt a vague annoyance that she had changed to her light armor for visiting the citadel; she normally had emergency rations in her normal gear and they were a little more palatable.

Near the end of the marketplace a young woman stood staring at the doors that lead towards the club known as Chora’s Den.  Her expression was one of brooding and her hands fidgeted with the edge of her fingerless gloves. Pashera eyed her warily.

As Pashera got closer, the woman turned and her eyes alighted.  “Shepard? Commander Shepard?”

Pashera looked over the woman, her eyes lingering on the exposed stomach area of the woman’s dress longer than what may have been considered appropriate. Part of her wondered how this woman knew her and part of her wanted to ask the cutie out of a drink.

The woman forged ahead without waiting for an answer, “I’m Emily Wong. I’m an investigative journalist working here on the Citadel. Could I have a moment of your time?”

Her back stiffening, Pashera frowned. She and journalists had never gotten along. When it wasn’t someone asking about how she survived Mindior it was someone prying about Torfan. With a stiff nod, she braced herself for whatever questions were about to come her way and prayed that news of Eden Prime had not already reached the Citadel.

“I’ve been having trouble finding the evidence I need to expose some organized crime here on the Citadel,” Emily gave a pregnant pause and met eyes with Pashera, “but… there are places I can’t go.”

Ms. Wong fidgeted nervously before continuing, “I was hoping you might share anything you find in your own investigation. I-,” her dark eyes flicked around nervously, “I can make it worth your time.”

Pashera stood still thinking. It was curious that this journalist knew what she was up to- it meant information was leaked somewhere and quite possibly that Fist was aware of his upcoming visit. She furrowed her brow while asking, “What makes you think my investigation is going to uncover anything you need?”

A smile played on Emily’s face, “You wouldn’t be investigating if it weren’t big. And if it’s big, it’s something I’d like to hear about.”

Pashera considered it for a minute. Her dislike for criminals was well known after Torfan but it seemed presumptuous of the girl to assume that Pashera could get what she couldn’t.  “Why me?” She asked after a minute of contemplation.

Emily looked apologetic, “You aren’t my only source, commander, but I think there’s a good chance of you finding the information I need. I- I read about the Siege of Torfan. Sending your men to their deaths, shooting slavers as they tried to surrender…”

Pashera felt a small surge of anger and her face hardened to a frown as Ms. Wong continued, “I need someone who isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty, someone who’ll do what needs to be done. That’s you.”

It was evident that Ms. Wong had considered that speech a compliment and not an insult, but Pashera felt like she had been slapped across the face and she was struggling not to let it show.

She looked over the journalist coldly before saying, “No promises.”

She held up her omni tool and looked expectantly at Ms. Wong.

Ms. Wong looked confused for a minute before realizing that Pashera was asking for her contact info. She quickly sent her contact code while saying, “Thank you, Commander. I promise you won’t regret this!”   

Pashera watched with a sour expression as the dark haired journalist walked out of sight.

“I already do.”

 

~~

 

Alenko was purchasing an upgraded shield and looking at the new biotic amp chip catalogue when he saw the commander walk by.

The companions she was with made him do a doubletake. It was like the beginning of a bad joke- _a turian C-sec officer, a krogan mercenary, and the Butcher of Torfan all walk into a bar._ He chuckled and shook his head. For a moment he considered following her but the more reasonable part of his mind argued that she would call if she needed help.

He glanced down at his omnitool and frowned.

Although he’d not had time to check, he was pretty sure that he’d seen her omnitool flickering. Had it been damaged in the blast? What if she couldn’t call him? He sighed and rubbed his temples. A headache was forming and it was foolish to sit worrying like a mother hen over someone who was more than capable of taking care of themselves.

 _Perfectly_ capable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ This chapter will probably still undergo some edits. (edits made 5.10.6)♥
> 
> Translations-  
>  _Dhanyavaad or Dhan'yavāda_ \- Thank you  
>  _Mala_ \- shit


	4. Den of Theives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> den of thieves (turn of phrase): Immoral, dishonest, selfish, and greedy people surrounding each other, with no concern about doing anything for anyone, only stealing, and taking as much as they can for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh heavens. I'm terribly sorry this took so long. This month has been rather hectic and I couldn't seem to get of the editing loop I put myself into. I've decided to upload the chapter as it is. I'll be uploading the chapter art when I find where I left my sketchbook as it seems to have vanished.  
> ~~~~~~~~~

Locked.

The door’s keypad an angry red square that burned in the gloomy lighting. A neon sign in the shape of an asari dancer flickered faintly as it grew dim. The light was only a fading echo; someone had cut the power.

“Looks like it's shut down,” Garrus observed casually. His weight shifted as he leaned against the wall and Pashera had to bite her tongue to keep her temper in check. There was no sense in snapping at his remark.

Wrex grumbled under his breath while unfolding a lethal looking red shotgun, “Fist knows we’re coming.”

At the click of the mercenary’s gun unfolding, Garrus tilted his head, “That the new Scimitar?” His blue eyes raked over the shotgun in appraisal.

With a small shake of his head Wrex checked the sighting, “Nah. This is the older Scimitar II model with a good buff-job.” His hand drifted to give the gun an affectionate rub. Small battle-worn scratches were evident on the gun’s surface, but it was in near pristine condition.

In response to the krogan’s preening, Garrus unclipped his Banshee assault rifle and it unfolded in a showy flair. The custom blue paint job made the gun look virtually unused.  He made a show of carefully looking over his gun as well.

Pashera rubbed away the smile that was trying to form. Turning her back to them she knelt on the ground- clasping her hands together. She prayed silently and allowed her mind to wander over forming a plan. Although her knowledge of the area was limited she’d been to Chora’s in the past and knew a rough layout. When she was done with her prayer, and her course of action was decided she stood to lean against the wall. Deftly she flicked on her omni-tool and started up some music in her comm. A little grin played over her lips and she turned the music down so it wouldn't interfere with combat.

The pistol at her hip remained untouched as she watched the two men compare weapons. It was endearing in a strange way. Turians and krogan typically were not known to get along—let alone work together. However, Garrus and Wrex seemed to be almost at ease with each other. Her mind wandered and she became lost in her contemplations.

“You feeling alright, Commander?” Wrex asked. His red eye fixed on her  and a curious tilt to his head.

Pashera snapped back to the present and realised that both men were quiet as they stared at her.

While straightening she tried to shrug off their stares and said, “I was simply waiting for you ladies to finish primping.”

Both males tensed visibly at the implication that they were female. Her brows scrunched and she rubbed her nose in an attempt to fight down the rising laughter. It never seemed to fail with any race—men would nearly always become angry if compared to a woman. She’d always found dark humour in the fact that people could respect her battle prowess but still somehow think of females as the weaker sex. Even the asari faced that problem and they were mono-gendered.

Wrex lowered a red glare at her and asked in a grave tone, “Not going to use a gun, Shepard?”

 Pashera shrugged her uninjured shoulder, “Someone will need to open an entrance.” With a nod towards the club she continued, “I have decided to be the one who knocks, since you boys have all the *big* guns.”

Wrex and Garrus shared a look of confusion and curiosity.

A tight smile spread over her face as she said, “You may desire to remain behind me.”

At that moment Pashera felt like laughing wildly, though only a grin escaped. Death Team was playing over her earpiece. The singer’s voice cheerfully exclaiming ~“ _I’m the kind of person that you don’t wanna’ fuck with!_ ”~ as biotic energy buzzed through her. The combination of punky music and biotics  were filling her with a reckless and wild feeling. Her feet carried her forward towards the club entrance. Her mind calculating each step—if she had gauged it correctly, it was about twenty paces away and that gave her plenty of room to create a charge with enough force to rip through the wall. Reinforced doors were common, but nobody ever reinforced the walls around a doorway. She hoped that anyone on the other side would not be expecting such an enthusiastic entrance.

Pashera ran the last few steps and focused the biotic field over her shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she turned sideways as she hit. Her body a battering ram as it punched through the metal like it was soft butter. An explosion of tables and small shards of what was left of the wall went flying across the room. The poor man who had been standing closest to the door was now pinned to the dance platform by a large piece of shrapnel.

Chaos.

The club had been full of men lying in wait. Sadly, most of those men had not counted on an explosion blasting a hole through the wall. Wrex was cackling madly at the destruction she’d caused as he took aim and fired at the first thug stupid enough to break from cover. Prepping another round of biotics in each hand Pashera advanced like wound-rabid varren.

As she headed around the circular bar towards the entrance to the back room, a man in black armour made the deadly mistake of stepping out from behind an overturned table to try and block her way. Reacting on instinct, she slammed her hands together- the twin biotic fields smashing into opposite sides of his head. There was a small explosion as the fields collided and she was knocked backwards into the bar and slid to the floor.

Blinking away the sparks of light from her eyes, she raised her head to see Garrus offering her a hand up.

 

~~

 

Garrus felt like the small human was constantly surprising him.

First it had been her inability to open a ration packet. He’d bitten back his laughter, but it  had probably been one of the funniest things he’d seen. Now, she’d smashed through a wall like biotic juggernaut. He’d never witnessed someone employ biotics the way she did. It was less trained moves and more sheer willpower. Impressive, but inwardly he groaned at how much paperwork he would need to fill out later. C-Sec tended to frown on property damage.

He only caught a glimpse of the blue-white explosion that sent her flying past him, but he definitely saw the aftermath. Blood, brains, and bone littered the ground where most of a thug was left. Shots rang in the air as he and the krogan downed the last nearby thugs.

When he was sure none of Fist’s thugs were left standing, he turned to look where Commander Shepard was sitting on the floor. Her eyes blinked rapidly- obviously a little dazed from her unexpected flight.

“You ok, Shepard?” He asked while hesitantly offering her a hand. She accepted it and he pulled her to her feet.

“ _Jurmānā_ ,” she replied mildly while looking down at her now brain and blood splattered clothing, “Just… fine.”

There was a chuckle as Wrex stood poking at an eye that had landed square in an otherwise undisturbed shot glass on the far edge of the room.

Garrus watched as the commander seemingly decided to take advantage of their location and the lull in the fighting. Slipping behind the bar,  she found herself a clean glass and chose a familiar green glowing liquor.  He frowned as she threw back the drink and made an inquiring look at them. The krogan mercenary gave her a feral grin and snagged the bottle. Garrus couldn’t escape the fact that he was technically on duty and drinking right then would be a poor idea, so he shook his head and declined.

 

~~

 

Pashera shrugged when Garrus turned down the drink. There were not many who could drink ryncol and stay standing, let alone fight. She could feel the alcohol warmth in her chest and the crackle that it gave to her biotics. It wasn’t something she would admit but she felt more at ease using her biotics when she had some alcohol in her. It also helped her ignore the fact that she was covered in ‘someone else’ and the smell was threatening flashbacks. The alcohol helped burn away the smell and memories better than a hot laser pressed to her temple.

She jerked her chin towards the far door, “Is that one locked?”

Garrus trotted over and carefully checked.

“No, it seems he didn’t expect us to get past his men.”

Pashera looked down at the empty shot glass in her hand and sighed, “And here I was looking forward to helping them remodel more.”

Wrex gave a soft chuckle of amusement as he put down the bottle and hefted his gun.

Pashera unclipped her pistol and gave it a quick once over.  Only vaguely did she notice that her omni-tool had stopped playing music. She didn’t bother to check it as she advanced forward.

With a nod they all took position around the door. Now that they no longer held the element of surprise she did not want to risk using her biotics.  There was a lingering sense of guilt in the back of her mind for her actions- if there had been civilians or workers in the club when she had hit the wall… she gave a shake of her head to clear her thoughts and advanced forward carefully. She'd take the time to snarl 'risky' at herself later. Now, it was time to finished what they'd come there for.

The door opened to a hallway that was used as a partial storage room. Two young workers stood shaking and trying to aim pistols in her direction, “S-Stop right there! Don’t come any closer!”

She sighed. There was no point in shooting these poor boys, they looked like they didn’t even know which end of the guns actually fired. Her mind raced and she turned her icy gaze on the frightened youths. The decision made in her mind to try and scare them away, “I am curious...” she said in a low dangerous voice, “Does Fist help families cover funeral expenses?”

The workers seemed to pale at the implication. She narrowed her eyes and continued, “This would be a good time to find a new place to work.”

The two boys shared a look before shakily dropping their weapons and slinking towards the entrance. There were mutters on how they had disliked Fist anyhow and he wasn’t worth getting shot over. Pashera suppressed a small smile and proceeded down the hallway in search of their target.

Fist was hiding in his office.

The man had made the mistake of not hiding behind the large desk that filled the room and as Pashera walked in she put two shots into his leg. Howling in pain, he dropped the weapon he’d been holding and fell over. Writhing on the ground, he whimpered, “Wait! Don’t kill me! I surrender!” His hands flailed between his leg and trying to shield himself. Bloody palms his only defence.

Despite her calm features, her eyes glinted icy malice. Pashera kicked over a nearby chair and braced her foot on it, leaning forward nonchalantly as she gestured with her gun, “Tell me where the quarian is and I will leave your other leg alone.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know where she is! That’s the truth!”

With a growl, Wrex raised his shotgun. “He’s no use to you, let me kill him.”

She held her arm out in a gesture to halt the mercenary.

Fist cowered away from the hulking krogan, “Wait! Wait! I don’t know where the quarian is, but I know where you can find her.”  He rocked while holding his leg and continued, “T-the quarian isn’t here. Said she’d only deal with the Shadow Broker himself. I-I lied and told her I’d set a meeting up. But when she goes, it will be Saren’s men waiting for her.”

Snarling, Pashera stepped forward and hauled Fist up by the front of his shirt, “Location. NOW.”

Fist gasped in pain and sputtered out his answer, “It’s- It’s nearby. The back alley behind the market place. S-she’s supposed to be meeting them now. You should go- you can make it if-if you hurry.” Pashera narrowed her eyes. He seemed to hope they would run to save the quarian and leave him alone.

A small part of her wondered if he was telling the truth or just trying to save his skin.

Either way it didn’t matter.

Her eyes flicked to glance at her companions before she dropped Fist without ceremony. Quickly stepping back away from the writhing man once she released him.

Wrex’s gun snapped up like a striking snake. **CRKOOM**. Fist lay still as his blood began to spread on the thin carpeting.  Pashera was not surprised. Wrex’s intentions had been clear from the beginning and she had never intended to stop him. She looked down at Fist’s body with cold eyes. Men like this needed to die. They threatened the safety of innocents- one thing she could not abide.

Garrus gave an angry shout,“What are you doing?! He surrendered!” His mandibles flaring outward with outrage and surprise.

“The Shadow Broker paid me to kill him.” Wrex answered simply while holstering his gun. “I don’t leave jobs half done.” His relaxed and nonchalant tone was a calm counterpoint to the  C-Sec officer’s, and Pashera vaguely hopped that Garrus wouldn’t press the matter.

Kneeling beside the body, she made a show of checking his pockets while giving a quick prayer for all those they had just killed. The hard form of a data disc could be felt in his breast pocket. She snagged it and then as an afterthought pulled the memory core from the nearby console.  The earlier conversation with the journalist had not been forgotten, and if there was evidence Pashera hoped it would be on one of these.  She intended to make sure that Miss Emily was who she claimed before handing over the data though.

As she stood, she fixed Wrex with a firm stare but did not say anything. There wasn’t really a need to reprimand him, but she was a little miffed that he hadn't waited for her to move completely out of the way.

The big krogan shrugged, “That was my last contract. Don’t we have something more pressing to worry about?”

“That quarian is dead if we don’t go now!” Garrus snarled while heading towards the door.  Pashera followed close behind him. If anyone knew where they were going now, it was not her.

They left the wreckage of the club at a fast jog.  Garrus’s long legs meant that Pashera had to double her speed to keep up with his surefooted lope. He swerved down a red lit alley and pulled out his gun. Down the stairs of the alley it looked like the meeting was already taking place.  

Advancing on the small purple clad quarian was a turian in impressive heavy armour. His face-plating painted like a skull and two Salarians followed closely in masked combat suits. The quarian’s high pitched voice carried along the alleyway in unhappy tones.

“Where’s the Shadow Broker? Where’s First?”

The turian assassin slinked forward and ran a hand down her arm like a man examining a prostitute, “They’ll be here. Where’s the evidence?”

He purred his words and the quarian tensed against his touch. She moved to slap his hand away as she took a step back,“No way. The deal’s off.”

The turian’s eyes narrowed in anger. At his signal the salarian guards stepped forward and drew their guns.  In a quick motion the quarian threw a series of small explosives while dodging behind some large pipes. It seems she had expected some trouble.

Wrex was the first to open fire from his position at the top of the steps. Hastily Pashera dashed over to raise a shield over herself and the quarian. Garrus took the would-be assassin down with a clean shot through the faceplate. The body dropped to its knees stiffly and toppled forward. Blue blood painted the wall behind the body.  

Once the would-be assassins were dealt with, Pashera glanced at her arm where she felt a stinging sensation. Blood trickled down her shoulder and she realised that a bullet had grazed her; re-opening her wound during one of the fights. Since the wound did not look serious, she slowly lowered the biotic shield and looked to the young quarian she had protected.

“Were you injured?” She asked while eyeing the girl. Bright eyes glared at her from the tinted mask. Pashera had not met a quarian before and she was glad that the suit was far less fear inducing than the volus.

“I know how to look after myself,” the girl snapped. Her view drifted to the bodies of her would-be killers and she seemed to soften, “Not... that I don’t appreciate the help. Who are you?”

“I am Commander Shepard. I am in search of evidence against a Spectre named Saren.”

The quarian raised her hand to her chest and gave a slight bow, “Then I have a chance to repay you for saving my life. But, uhm,… not here. We need to go somewhere safe.”

Garrus approached, “We should go to the human embassy.”  He glanced around the alleyway, “Your ambassador would want need to see the evidence anyway.”

With a sigh, Pashera looked down at her gore covered  clothing, “If you do not mind, I think I need to change first.”  

The quarian looked at the offending articles and did a quick sidestep to put distance between them. Pashera didn’t blame her- it was fairly gruesome.

“Ah,” Garrus looked at her with the turian equivalent of a smile, “there’s a vendor at the marketplace that sells similar clothing.” His eyes travelled to her face, “...and Dr. Michel may have a sink for you to wash in.” Pashera inwardly winced and bid herself to not wonder what may have prompted that suggestion- she was already fighting the feeling of disgust. There was a small surge of thankfulness that she had put on her headwrap- she’d only had to get gore in her hair once and she vowed to never repeat the experience.

 

~~

 

Alenko had a difficult time not worrying about his commanding officer.

He’d tried to return to browsing the wares but he could swear he heard something of an explosion earlier.  He finished his purchase and stood debating if he should follow the direction that she’d gone. Before he could make a decision, the commander walked out of a nearby door with her previous companions.

Alenko stared; brown eyes going wide as he looked over the group. The commander was covered in blood and  a quarian now seemed to be part of the group. They  were walking towards a nearby stall and didn’t seem to have noticed him.

“Commander?” He called hesitantly.

The commander’s blue eyes looked to him and a little smile pulled at her lips, “Alenko! Sorry, it seems you have missed all the fun.”

He blinked. _Fun?_ Maybe he had misjudged her and she **WAS** just a crazy bitch. Nothing that ended with people covered in blood could really be considered fun.

The krogan nearby chuckled.

Smile fading from her face like a light going dim, she turned away to speak with the nearby salarian merchant. The merchant was obviously cowed by her blood covered state but the commander spoke in soothing calm tones;   requesting a soft armour in her size. Soon as she was holding a package containing her purchase she turned to face the group. “Shall we head to the clinic?” She asked while looking to each person.

The rest of the group nodded and headed off. Alenko wasn’t sure if he was welcome to tag along.

“Do you wish to join us?” the commander asked. The package in her arms was hugged to her chest like a shield.

Alenko eyed her with a frown, “Sure.” His mind was racing- as soon as the team had turned away she had seemed to slump a little like someone had let out all the air that had puffed her up. As they started walking she asked, “Did Williams abandon you?”

“Hm? Well, we each figured that since we had free time we would do some personal shopping. I guess you could say I kind of abandoned *her*,” he said with a slight shrug.

He glanced at her and noticed there was a slowly growing stain of blood on her shoulder.

“Commander, were you wounded?”

She cave an unexpected chuckle, “Yes. I am not sure when it occurred. My shoulder is still mostly numb from the bone setting treatment. My guess-- I was clipped during one of the fights.”

He rubbed at his head. Pain behind his eyes was slowly building. This headache was going to be a doozy- he should have gone to eat with Williams. Maybe the headache was from not eating enough? Biotics always made him eat like a horse. He sighed while thinking.

“Did you eat yet?” the commander broke into his thoughts.

He shook his head, “Naw. Decided to shop first.”

A small silver packet was presented to him. He stared at it and nearly forgot to keep walking.

“Biscuit.”

He took the packet, “Uh… thanks...”

He opened the packet and took a bite. He was surprised to find that it was sweet, “Thought you said this was a biscuit?”

She looked at him and another small smile passed over her face, “Sorry… old habit. My father always called them biscuits…”

Alenko took another bite of the cookie while thinking. “Commander, where was your father from?”

“I believe he was from someplace in India. My other father was a spacer…”

Alenko swallowed hard, two dads was not as uncommon in this day and age but it still caught him off-guard. India would explain the language he’d heard her mutter in occasionally as well as the terminology. He’d rarely gave thought to where people were from or their customs, and it was interesting to realise how varied people really were.

He looked at the cookie and realised something, “Commander, have *you* eaten?”

“I had a nutrient pill and half a biscuit earlier. I had not expected things to move as quickly today as they did… planned to stop and eat earlier but... I will just grab something later. Do not worry about me.”

Alenko finished off the cookie and could feel that his headache was easing.

“Headache better?” She asked as they walked.

Alenko frowned as he looked at her, “How did you know I had a headache?”

She didn’t look at him when she replied, “...just a guess.” He was sure it was a lie but he didn’t try to ask more.

They stopped in front of a door and she pressed the panel to open it. It slid open to reveal the rest of the group.

 

~~

 

Ten minutes later Pashera had fresh clothes, a clean face, and a doctor fussing over her re-opened wound. Garrus and the quarian had taken a cab over to the embassies because she had seemed nervous about waiting longer in an area she deemed unsafe. Wrex and Alenko had opted to stay behind with Pashera; this was puzzling her since she had expected to part ways with Wrex after his contract for Fist was done.  

Pashera looked over at Wrex while Dr. Michel slowly laid a bandage over her freshly cleaned wound.

She wasn’t sure how to ask what she was thinking but she decided to try and give voice to her curiosities. “Wrex, why do you remain?”

The krogan battle-master stared quietly at her.

After a few minutes he shrugged, “The way I see it, Shepard, a storm's coming, and you and Saren are right in the middle of it." He gave his gravelly chuckle and continued, “I’ve got the feeling this is a fight I want to be part of.”

Pashera stood as Dr. Michel finished and moved away. “Then I look forward to fighting beside you, Wrex.”

 

~~

 

Garrus walked with Tali.

He was desperately trying to ignore the increasing messages he was getting from headquarters. Chora’s den was going to bite him in the ass but he had not cared. It had been nice to finally get around the red tape long enough to get something accomplished. He wondered if Commander Shepard could use an extra crew member. It might be nice to follow someone who wasn’t afraid to get things done.

As they walked he began to notice that many people avoided them or gave them hostile looks.

“You seem to be attracting a lot of unwanted attention,” he said to his quarian companion.

She visibly tensed, “Many think less of quarians for travelling in the flotilla, and for creating the geth. They see us as scavengers, little better than thieves.”

He responded without much thought, “It is natural for people to dislike rootless wanderers. If quarians would just settle another world, you would not run into such concerns.”

When she responded her voice was bitter and angry, “We tried. The council gave the planet to the vorcha who killed most of the settlers.”

Garrus clamped his mouth shut and really hoped that the commander wouldn’t take too long to follow.

 

~~

 

Ambassador Udina was yelling again; Pashera could hear his unpleasant screeching through the door as she approached the embassies.

Garrus and the quarian stood outside the door looking uncomfortable. It appeared that they had not entered yet and due to his yells that might have been a good thing.

With a sigh Pashera squared her shoulders and headed into the office.

“—Firefights in the wards? An all-out assault on Chora’s Den? Do you know how many—“ Udina’s raving was cut short when he saw Pashera enter with the others. His face was still purple with fury and a vein pulsed in his neck. Anderson stood nearby in uniform.

Udina looked over the group suspiciously, “Who’s this? A quarian? What are you up to Shepard?”

“Making your day, Ambassador,” Pashera gestured tiredly at the quarian, “She has information linking Saren to the geth.”  

Pashera shifted her posture and stood at attention.  She knew her actions down in the wards were bound to come back and bite her but she was hoping that blowing a giant gaping hole in a citadel building would be overlooked by whatever ‘evidence’ the quarian was going to provide.

Udina scowled and blinked, “Really? Maybe you had better start at the beginning, Miss…?”

The quarian gave a slight bow, “My name is Tali. Tali’ Zorah nar Rayya.”

Udina's piggy little eyes narrowed with his mistrust, “We don’t see many quarians here. Why did you leave the flotilla?”

Tali began to pace back and forth, her uneasiness evident on her thin suited frame. “I was on my Pilgrimage, my rite of passage into adulthood. During my travels I began hearing reports of geth. Since driving my people into exile, the geth have never ventured beyond the Veil. I was… curious.”

She stopped pacing and faced Udina, “I tracked a patrol of geth to an uninhabited world. I waited for one to become separated from its unit. Then I disabled it and removed its memory core.”

Anderson had been listening quietly until this point, “I thought the geth fried their memory cores when they died. Some kind of defence mechanism. How did you manage to preserve the memory core?”

Tali’s back went rigid, “My people created the geth. If you are quick, careful, and lucky- small caches of data can sometimes be saved. Most of the core WAS wiped clean. But I salvaged something from its audio banks.” With that she held up her omni-tool and started a recording.

“ _Eden Prime was a major victory! The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit._ ”

Saren’s voice crowed from the recording. His smug satisfaction could be heard in every word.

“That’s Saren’s voice. This proves he was involved in the attack!” Anderson said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“Wait… there’s more,” Interjected Tali with a little headshake, “Saren wasn’t working alone.”

She replayed the recording.

“ _Eden Prime was a major victory! The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit._ ”

A female voice cut in, _“And one step closer to the return of the Reapers._ ”

Udina rubbed at his chin, “I don’t recognize that other voice. The one talking about Reapers.”

Pashera frowned, “I feel like I’ve heard that name before…”

“According to the memory core, the Reapers were a hyper-advanced machine race that existed 50,000 years ago. The Reapers hunted the Protheans to total extinction, and then they vanished.” Tali gave a little shrug, “At least that’s what the geth seem to believe.”

Crossing his arms Udina grumbled, “Sounds a little far-fetched.”

Pashera felt a sense of growing unease and realization. “The beacon.” All eyes were on her and she regretted speaking, “The vision from the beacon—I understand it now. I was seeing the Protheans being wiped out by the Reapers. It was a warning.”

Anderson looked from Udina to Pashera, “No matter what the council thinks of the rest of this, those audio files prove Saren’s a traitor.”

Udina nodded and headed for the door, “The captain’s right. We need to present this to the council right away. Anderson and I will go ahead and get things ready with the Council.”

Anderson looked over at Pashera with a peculiar expression. Hoping that she had not missed cleaning some blood off her face, she shifted and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. She more than expected him to tell her she crossed a line down at Chora’s Den.  Instead, Anderson brought up his omni-tool and said, “I’m transferring some funds to your account. It will be a little while before the council will be able to see us. I suggest you go and get something to eat.”

With that said, he left the room. Pashera stood slightly stunned. Everyone looked to her expectantly, “I… uh,” she stopped and tried to collect her thoughts. She had been so braced for scolding that she had been caught completely off-guard. She knew that this was his way of telling her that he was proud. She looked to Garrus, “I’m afraid I don’t know the area that well… do you have any suggestions?”

He did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Jurmānā_ \- Fine _(technically the word is used incorrectly. She uses the term as in a 'money' fine. An old habit from her father and a play on words.)_
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos. Honestly, I was getting so frustrated/overwhelmed with things I never meant to let the chapter update take so long. NaNoWriMo will be starting soon though so it *might* be longer than I would like for the next update. I will try my very best to get it up and super giant thank you for reading and being patient.


	5. Stranger Things Have Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **stranger things have happened (turn of phrase):** _used to say that although a suggested event or idea seems very strange or surprising, it is possible_

 

_ ****_

 

 

Pashera sat awkwardly at the rounded café table; although she had been hungry she had not overly considered what eating with four near strangers would be like. She pushed the strange purple fruit she had ordered around her plate and tried not to make eye contact with the others; she had never been good at socialising outside of a war-zone and it did not seem like now was any different.

In truth the café was lovely and she had been enjoying the food until Garrus had made an offhanded remark about Tali’s helmet.  Tali had icily replied that it was necessary for her people to wear suits because living aboard ships had weakened their immune systems.

To be honest Pashera wasn’t sure how to defuse the situation and all conversation had come to a cold stand-still. Everyone was tense in anticipation for the upcoming meeting. Thankfully the strained silence was broken by the café’s performers; a barbershop quartet of hanar and elcor. The largest of the pink hanar forms flashed with different colours as it crooned a soft song about the Enkindlers.  The deep voices of the large grey elcor were a comforting hum in counterpoint.

“Is that… WOW! It’s * ** _YOU_** *!”

A loud voice shouted across the café making Pashera start. Her head snapped up and she wearily looked around for where the voice had come from. Sadly, it was not difficult to find the source. A scrawny blond human male was walking towards their table.

“You’re Commander Shepard, the Angel of Death! The Butcher of Torfan! I’m so honoured to meet you!”

Pashera cringed at the mention of Torfan and the name people had given her. Desperately, she wished that the man would stop shouting and leave- people in the once peaceful courtyard were beginning to stare.  The man now stood at their table, he seemed to wriggle like a happy dog.

“It is… nice to meet you. And you are…?” Pashera said cautiously.

The man looked like he might explode with glee, “My name is Conrad. Conrad Verner. They say you recently were on Eden Prime and you killed more than a hundred geth!”

Pashera vaguely wondered if this Conrad knew any other volume than ‘yell loudly’. She rubbed the back of her neck in an effort to quell the rising anxiety. A part of her was unhappy that reports from Eden Prime were already leaking to the Citadel; though it wasn’t altogether a surprise at that point.

 

~~

 

Garrus watched with veiled interest as the commander sank into her chair in an effort to get away from the fawning of the loud human who was obviously making her uncomfortable. He’d met few people who were as socially awkward as himself and it was almost amusing to witness her discomfort.

Mr. Conrad, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice her uneasiness, “Hey, I… you’re probably busy, but could I get a quick autograph?”

Before the commander could reply, a napkin and pen were shoved in front of her, the action knocked several drinks which Tali deftly caught. A dark tinge crept onto the commander’s cheeks as she hastily signed the napkin.

“Here.” She handed the napkin back to the strangely enthusiastic fan.

“Thanks! Wow, my wife is going to be so impressed! I’ll let you get back to your lunch, but next time you’re on Earth, I’d love to buy you a drink! Thanks again!”

Conrad Verner was gone almost as quickly as he had appeared.

Garrus shifted in his chair to watch as Commander Shepard hid her face in her hands. Tiny tremors shook her small fingers and she took deep calming breaths. It was fascinating to see. Not even thirty minutes prior she had been an unflappable commanding officer. Charging through walls and smearing people in her wake of destruction. Now, she was little more than a shaken female human.

“Does that happen often?” Tali asked curiously while placing the rescued drinks back into their original places.

The commander looked up to the quarian and gave a weak smile, “Sometimes…” she then looked away, “But usually they are much more… accusing. Less fanatical.”

 

~~

 

Pashera fought down a surge of sadness; Torfan was not a happy memory for her. She had lost nearly her entire squad during the mission and her resulting actions still haunted her. She understood that she had to face the consequences of those actions- so it always unnerved her when someone praised Torfan.

Tali didn’t seem to want to press the issue.

The only sound between them for a while was Wrex’s energetic but thoughtful chewing.  

“I suppose we should go,” Garrus suggested. “The Council will probably be ready soon.”

The group quietly headed for the nearest cab transit.

“There’s no way the council can ignore us this time,” Garrus said fiercely while they waited for the cab to arrive. “Saren’s days as a Spectre are done.”

Tali shifted uneasily, “If the evidence was worth trying to kill me for, I hope it is sufficient to motivate the Council.” She paused uneasily, “Garrus—if you do not mind me asking—is there a reason you seem so passionate about proving Saren guilty?”

Garrus’ eyes flashed with anger, “Saren is either a traitor or a madman. Taking him down will help restore the good name of Turians everywhere.”

“I see.” Tali gave a lengthy pause before continuing, “Things are different among my people.”

Her shoulders drooped and she continued, “There are so few of us. We are expected to be loyal, even when it is difficult.”

Pashera watched as Tali bowed her head in thought. She felt bad for not knowing how to comfort the young girl- it was obvious that Tali was struggling with being so far from the place she knew as home. She looked away from Tali and thought of when she had faced that same struggle… though it had been less by choice. The anniversary of that date was actually in a few days. Pashera frowned, she had somehow forgotten till now.

A nearby ad hologram loudly proclaimed to the group that they should join Ace’s Rangers if they were looking for legitimate work. Wrex chuckled and kicked the projector just as the large limo-cab arrived. The ride was silent and solemn as a funeral. Although the evidence was considered strong, it was still feared that the Council would turn a blind eye towards Saren’s actions. Anderson and Udina were waiting at the bottom of the meeting arena stairs, their backs tense and their faces stoney.  Upon seeing Pashera’s approach, Udina turned and climbed the stairs.

“Good timing. The meeting is about to start,” Anderson said in greeting. “Udina will be presenting the quarian’s evidence to the Council.”

 

~~

 

After initial opening statements, Udina played the recording. It echoed throughout the large room with a sense of finality.

Udina pointed angrily towards the Council, “You wanted proof. There it is.”

The Turian Councilor was the first to respond, “This evidence is irrefutable, Ambassador. Saren will be stripped of his Spectre status and all effort will be made to bring him in to answer for his crimes.”

Pashera felt a sense of relief at the turian’s words, she had begun to think of the Council as far more unreasonable and it was refreshing to see their competent side.  Secretly, she also found humour in how quick he was to cast Saren aside now that there might be evidence that would tarnish the image of the proud turian race. She frowned in thought, now that she thought about it- it was strange that they would dismiss the claims from a witness but blindly accept a recording from a quarian. It also seemed that they were overlooking the fact that the recording only called the occurrence a ‘victory’ but laid no claim to the actual attack. She sighed- perhaps it was an issue of race? It seemed a common enough occurrence but it was disappointing that someone in power would cave to that sort of immaturity.

The Asari Councilor seemed troubled, “I recognise the other voice, the one speaking with Saren. It’s Matriarch Benezia.”

Pashera felt an eyebrow going up. A sense of snarky disbelief that out of an entire race the Counselor could 100% recognise the voice from one recording was settling in her stomach. Since the vast majority of Asari chose to appeare ‘female’ Pashera had her doubts that such a thing were possible but she stayed quiet and hoped that they were not going to be headhunting an innocent.

The councilor paused in thought, “As a Matriarch in her late years she is highly regarded and has many followers. If she is a traitor, she will make a formidable ally for Saren.”

“I’m more interested in the Reapers they mentioned,” Interjected the Salarian Councilor. “What do we know about them?”

Anderson shook his head slightly, “We only know what was extracted from the geth’s memory core. The Reapers were an ancient race of machines that wiped out the Protheans. Then they vanished. The geth seem to believe that the Reapers are gods and that Saren is the prophet for their return.”

“Listen to what you’re saying!” Snarled the Turian Councilor, “Saren wants to bring back the machines that wiped out all life in the galaxy? Impossible. It has to be.”

Pashera resisted the urge to face-palm in frustration. Perhaps she had been too quick to think that they were competent after all.  

The Turian Councilor continued his rant, “Where did the Reapers go? Why did they vanish? How come we’ve found no trace of their existence? If they were real, we’d have found something!”

Pashera stepped forward. “I tried to warn you about Saren,” she said angrily, “and you refused to face the truth. Do not make the same mistake with--”

She was interrupted by the Asari Councilor, “This is different.” She spoke softly but with authority, “you proved Saren betrayed the Council.” She looked to each of the other Councilors, “We all will agree that he’s using the Geth to search for this… conduit, but we don’t really know the reason why. The Reapers are obviously just a myth, Commander. A convenient lie to cover Saren’s true purpose. A legend that he is using to bend the geth to his will.”

Pashera tried once more to get her point across, “If Saren does find that conduit and brings back the Reapers—“

“Saren is a rogue agent on the run for his life.” The Turian Councilor interrupted. “He no longer has the rights or resources of a Spectre. The council has stripped him of his position.” He gave a dismissive wave.

Udina stepped forward, “That is not good enough! You know he’s hiding somewhere in the Traverse. Send your fleet in!”

The Salarian Councilor blinked his large frog-like eyes and gave a small shake of his head, “A fleet cannot track down one man.”

Udina clenched his hands, “A Citadel fleet could secure the entire region. Keep the geth from attacking any more of our colonies.”

“OR it could trigger a war with the Terminous Systems!” Snarled the Turian Councilor, “We won’t be dragged into a galactic confrontation over a few dozen human colonies!”

The room was filled with tense anger. Udina looked close to having an apoplexy. His face purple with rage, he gestured emphatically as he yelled, “Every time humanity asks for help you ignore us! I’m sick of this Council and its anti-human bull--”

“Ambassador!” The Asari Councilor held up her hand to pause his words further, “there is another solution. A way to stop Saren that does not require fleets or armies.” She looked meaningfully towards the Turian councilor.

“NO!” Rage emanated from the Turian Councilor, “It’s too soon. Humanity is not ready for the responsibilities that come with joining the Spectres.”

That statement had Pashera’s full attention. Part of her gave an inner jump of excitement at what they were suggesting, another part deeply wanted to snidely ask if the turians had really been ready since this mess was their fault. She immediately felt ashamed for the part of her that thought such cruel thoughts. After all- Garrus was just as angry at the situation as she was. As her parents had always said- there was no sense in blaming or judging the masses for the crimes of the one.

Pashera stood straight, “Sir, I faced Saren on Eden Prime. When you asked for evidence- I found the evidence.  If I have not proven myself then….” She didn’t know how to continue.

Anderson stepped forward to argue the point, “This way, you don’t have to send a fleet into the Traverse and the Ambassador gets his human Spectre. Everybody’s happy.”

Pashera watched as the Council members held a silent conference. Instead of words they exchanged a series of facial expressions. After a nod from the Asari they all entered something into the terminals that stood before them.

“Commander Shepard, step forward.”  

Pashera looked to Anderson who nodded her forwards with a slight smile; she could see the pride in his eyes.  She walked to the edge of the platform.

The Asari Councilor started speaking, “It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel.”

The Salarian Councilor crossed his arms and continued for her, “Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; whose actions elevate them above the rank and file.”

The Asari Councilor took over again, “Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will.”

The Turian Councilor shifted and focused his eyes at a far point of the wall- his dislike of what he was about to say was evident, “Spectres bear a great burden. They are the protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense.” He tilted his head and looked fully at Pashera, “The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.”

“You are the first human Spectre, Commander. This is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species,” the Asari Councilor concluded.

Pashera gave a small bow, “I’m honored, Councilor.” In her head she thanked the fact that many cultures viewed a bow as an action of respect. She also was quietly cheering at her new title- she concealed her excitement with a carefully blank facial expression.

“We’re sending you into the Traverse after Saren. He’s a fugitive from justice, so you are authorized to use any means necessary to apprehend or eliminate him. We will be forwarding any relevant files to Ambassador Udina,” said the Salarian with a small nod.

“This meeting of the Council is adjourned.”

Pashera turned from the Council as they walked away. Anderson beamed at her and for the first time in ages she wanted to run over and hug him. Jump around wildly. Laugh uncontrollably. Instead of doing that, she settled with giving him a small smile and a smart salute.

Udina was looking pensive, “We have a lot of work to do, Shepard. You’re going to need a ship, a crew, supplies…”

Pashera thought back to the Normandy. A stealth ship like that would be perfect, but she had doubts that the Alliance would build another anytime soon.  She realized that she may have missed something while daydreaming of ships because Udina was walking away saying, “Anderson, come with me. I’ll need your help to set all this up.”

Anderson gave her an apologetic smile, “We’ll talk later. Alenko, follow me.” He and Alenko left at a fast walk to catch up to Udina.

Pashera looked around the group that was left and was unsure what to do.

“I thought the ambassador would be a little more grateful. He didn’t even thank you,” Tali said wryly.

Pashera rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, “Until I find Saren, I will not have done anything worth thanks.” However, she silently agreed with Tali. It would have been nice if the ambassador had bothered to at least act as if he was happy with what had happened- instead it had seemed like everything was an unfortunate nuisance.

“Shepard?” Tali asked quietly.

“Yes Tali?”

“I know that there is some… stigmas about my people but I am the closest thing to an expert of the geth. I would like to come with you on your mission.”

“Tali, I…,” Pashera paused unsure how to express what she was feeling. Tali’s enthusiasm- even after having nearly been killed- was admirable.  Tali misinterpreted Pashera’s silence and looked down while wringing her hands.

“I—I know quarians are usually thought to be thieves and scoundrels but—“

Pashera smiled and held up a hand to interrupt her, “ _Cintā mata karō_. You are more than welcome aboard. _Dhanyavaad_ for wishing to stay.”

They started walking towards the small park area nearby that was meant for those waiting to speak with the Council.  Pashera frowned in thought as she walked. Already she had a team of two people who wanted to follow her into this crazy mess. There was no telling how bad it was going to get- they were facing an unknown. Chasing down a ruthless rogue Spectre was bound to be difficult enough but the vision from the beacon made her sure that there was a dangerous threat ahead- the Reapers. She just hoped that she could keep them alive.

She glanced at her omni-tool band to check the time and was surprised to see that it appeared to have finally ceased working.  With a frown, she unclasped it and slipped it off her wrist to see if she could at least get it working again.

The sound of a throat clearing made her look up.

An Admiral stood before her.  She snapped to attention and gave a quick salute. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, “I wanted to congratulate you, Commander. First human Spectre. I’m certain you’ll be up to the challenge.” He offered his hand and Pashera shook it with a bemused smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

“My name is Admiral Kahoku. It’s about time the Alliance got one of our own in with the Spectres. We need people like you to deal with our…problems.” His brow furrowed as he said problems and Pashera could tell that this was not just a congratulatory greeting.

“Is something wrong, Admiral?”

He sighed and put his hand behind his back, “I’m getting stonewalled by bureaucratic assholes. Nothing new. However,” he shifted and he gave her an expectant look, “maybe you could help me, Shepard.”

She met his eyes but said nothing. He continued, “I know you’re heading into the Traverse. One of my recon teams was investigating some strange activity out there. We lost contact yesterday. Now, I can’t get clearance to check it out- suddenly it’s a restricted area.”  He gestured in agitation while he spoke, “But that doesn’t apply to you, Shepard. Spectres can go anywhere they want. You could find out why my team dropped out of contact.”

Pashera gave a small nod, “I will try to find them, Admiral.”

He looked relieved, “I appreciate that, Commander. I was running out of options. I’ll be here, “he gestured at the Council’s waiting area, “and see if I can find anything out through official channels. Won’t hold my breath, though.”

He opened his omni-tool as he spoke, “I’ll upload the info on where my team was last seen to your ship. I really hope you can get some answers.”

He turned and walked away. Pashera’s throat felt tight and her stomach was clenched- it seemed that her new position was already drawing extra attention. More people now expected things from her since she had more power. Her first duty had been to the Alliance- but now as a Spectre it was also to her mission of finding and bringing Saren to justice as well as everything else.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

Tali’s hand touched her shoulder and Pashera jumped. While dealing with the admiral she had honestly forgotten about the others.

“Commander, it seems your omni-tool is broken. Did you want me to try and take a look at it? I’m quite good at fixing things.”

Pashera looked down at the broken omni-tool in her hand and sighed. She had been meaning to get a new one for ages anyhow but she was a little worried about recovering the data and programs that she had stored on it. “Uhm…” she thought for a moment and tried to give Tali a  smile, “Actually, I needed to get an upgraded model before this was damaged.” She looked at the rest of the group; until Anderson and Udina made arrangements for what ship she was to have she wasn’t sure where to tell the others to meet.

“If anyone else would like to join me on the hunt for Saren,” She looked to Garrus briefly while speaking, “... I have errands to run but in three hours I suggest we meet at the Ambassador’s office. I suggest running whatever errands or settling affairs within that time.”  Wrex and Garrus gave nods and headed off. Tali stood looking uncomfortable. Pashera looked at her and gave her another reassuring smile, “Tali, you seem to be more knowledgeable about tech than I am. Would you care to join me?”

Relief was evident in the quarian’s posture and she gave a quick nod.

They fell into step together and headed towards the market area.

 

~~

 

Garrus stood in front of his ranting superior.

He had gone in to file his incident report. He stood at attention like 'good turian' but he was quickly losing what little patience he had. His mind raced as he thought over the day’s events.

“VACARIAN ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?!”

Garrus narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Of course he wasn’t. There was no point.

“YOU. ARE. ON. MANDATORY. LEAVE. UNTIL. FOREVER!”  The snarls from his superior came from in-between breaths of rage.

Garrus gave a shrug, “Good.”

He didn’t need to say more. He was going to join Shepard if she'd have him. He was going to bring down Saren- no matter what it took and as a Spectre she could get it done- no red tape. No piles of paperwork.

Silently he turned and walked away.

 

~~

 

Pashera stood near the entrance to her usual tattoo shop. A new omni-tool bracelet was clasped on her wrist and music played quietly over her earpiece. Gentle tones to soothe her tired nerves. She had also gotten a new omni-tool with enhanced memory and better shield generator function for Tali. The quarian had been flustered but thankful, and Pashera saw her glancing down at it repeatedly as they walked.

“Tali, I… I have something I need to do. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want but I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Commander Shepard, I—,”

Pashera cut her off, “Please Tali, when we are not in a firefight or on a mission you may call me Pashera.”

“Okay, uhm, Pashera. I don’t mind. This is a tattoo parlor right? I’ve always been curious to see the tattooing process.”

Pashera stared up at the glowing sign that read ‘Rabbit Hole Tattoos’ and smiled. She loved the weird, polite, curiosity that Tali seemed to have; it was strangely endearing.  She looked back to Tali, “Well then, welcome to the Rabbit Hole… Alice.”

She turned and walked in- she could almost hear Tali trying to puzzle out why she had called her Alice but she didn’t bother explaining.

A muscular gentleman with a ponytail of white hair and a great number of tattoos sat behind the counter reading a Fornax magazine that seemed to be mainly Hanar porn. He looked up when they entered and his face split into a grin. “Aaaah, Shera-darling!” He put down the magazine and walked around the counter with his arms wide, he stood and gave her an expectant grin.

“You sure, _Būṛhā ādamī_? I am sure to break you one of these days.”

He laughed, “You couldn’t break me, ma chère. Not with that tiny body.”

Pashera smiled and backed up a few steps, she ran and launched herself at him- almost a perfect flying tackle.

He caught her expertly and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek before setting her down. Pashera chuckled, “Once more, you have proven me incorrect, _Būṛhā ādamī_.” She shook her head in amusement.

“Ah, ma chère. You couldn’t break me unless you truly wanted to,” his eyes fell on Tali who stood awkwardly in the doorway. “And who is this beautiful flower you have arrived with?”

Tali looked somewhat like she wanted to run as she stood hesitantly by the door.

“Ah. German, this is Tali. Tali, this is German- an old and very dear… friend.” Pashera smiled up at him, “He is one of the best tattoo artists in the galaxy to my knowledge. Actually, he runs a service with ships converted into tattoo shops. There are over a thousand pupils for his technique and he can tattoo nearly any species. ...All that and I have the great honor of being able to call him friend.”

German looked humbled for a minute before he gave Tali a bright smile, “Well I doubt you’re here to do more than watch Pashera get some ink,” he gave Pashera’s shoulders a squeeze and he spoke, “But I have an excellent sterilization kit and Quarian safe inks should you ever want a tattoo.”

Tali’s surprise was evident. “You have tattoo supplies for Quarians? I… wasn’t aware that was possible.”

German pulled a book from behind his counter. “I used to run a ship with a quarian who was on his pilgrimage. Damn fine man. He helped me develop a safe method for tattooing quarians.” He gave one of his dazzling smiles as he opened the large book. It was filled with small videos of past tattoos. One of the tattoos was on the thigh of a red suited quarian.  German tapped at the photo to explain, “Depending on the location- you can lock down that section of your suit like you would for a wound. You’ll feel sick for a day or two but should be fine beyond that.”

Tali tilted her head as she looked at the photo.

German turned and grasped Pashera’s hand and held it to his chest, “Well, ma chère, are you going to make this old man’s day and finally get that dragon you’d mentioned, or is it going to be more depressing butterflies?”

Pashera couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I fear it will just be more depressing butterflies. Two,” she looked down, “One of them is going to need some color- I was thinking a red flasher if you do not mind.”

Concern was evident in his eyes as he looked down at her. German  was one of the few people that knew the meaning of her tattoos.  More-so since he’d been the one to do each one. She worried at her lip and shrugged, “I suppose- we could also do that dragon. I might as well do something in celebration of becoming a Spectre.”

His eyes widened, “Spectre? You joke, ma chère!  You know what that calls for!” He dashed back behind his counter and emerged with two shot glasses, a bottle of venomous looking homebrew alcohol, and a small silvery packet. He tossed the packet at Tali who managed to catch it even through her surprise. He grinned and filled the shot glasses then slid one towards Pashera, “A toast! To the best damn Spectre this galaxy will have ever seen!”

Tali stood awkwardly staring at the packet and German noticed, “Don’t fret, Flower. It's triple distilled and sealed. I keep a few back here in case I get a quarian visitor. You don’t have to drink if you don’t want- I know it’s not common among quarians to drink alcohol while abroad.” He grinned and raised his glass while looking at Pashera, “But I expect YOU, ma chère, to drink.”

Pashera saluted him with her glass before downing it.  Tali carefully drank hers through a small port in her suit.  After the toast, German dragged Pashera and to a back room where she stripped off her top and settled onto his tattooing station with her chest against the soft imitation leather. German got to work- his hand steady and sure as he did a freehand base drawing of the butterflies. Every now and then he would stop and explain something to Tali- hand pressure, ink choice, holding method. He was a born teacher with a passion for the canvas of skin.

Pashera couldn’t help it- her eyes drifted closed and she fell asleep.

It seemed like only a few minutes before she was shaken gently awake. German held a cup of her favorite floral tea out to her as she sat up. She nodded her thanks and accepted the cup while blearily blinking. German left the room.

“Uhm, Commander?” Tali’s voice came from the corner where she had been curled reading. “Your shirt…”

Pashera looked down and bit back a sigh. “ _Mujhē kṣamā karēṁ_ , Tali, I forgot…” A small thought crossed her mind and she smirked into her cup while saying, “that quarians might be sensitive to nudity.”

She tucked her arms against her chest to block the view of her nipples and continued to sip her tea, she was curious how Tali would react to her little jab.

Tali’s voice was slightly high pitched with her embarrassed outrage, “I-I I’m not a prude, I just—“

Pashera laughed, she couldn’t help it, if Tali had been a cat she would have been fuzzy with emotion and the idea was beyond entertaining to Pashera in her half-asleep state.  “Relax, Tali. I was joking.” She thought for a moment, “Well… partially joking...” She turned in the chair so that she could lean back against it; her arms remained tightly over her chest for Tali’s sake.

The dragon that spiraled down her arm caught her eye and she took a moment to admire the work. She and German had talked about doing a dragon on her arm so that when she focused her biotics in her hand it would look like it was breathing blue flames, but this was beyond all she had expected. He had even taken the time to shade it- delicate blues and soft whites made it pop on her dark skin. She always loved his work- his experimentation with supplies from other worlds had made him somewhat famous for being able to make a bright tattoo on any color of skin. Hell- he was particularly loved for his ability to tattoo krogan. She smiled as she stroked a finger over the slightly sore image that graced her skin.  She was glad that she had finally agreed to it.

Tali, shifted uncomfortably and Pashera remembered that she wasn’t quite done talking, “Apologies. As I was saying- if it bothers you it will not occur again. I... forget that some people feel strange about seeing partial or full nudity.” She gave small shrug, “I’ve never seen the body as something to be ashamed of or hide. Idolizing or mystifying it for the sake of sexuality or something seems… silly. However, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

German returned to the room with a small temp-top in his hands. He handed it over and then went to the corner to begin mixing his own special blend of tattoo healing medi-gel. Pashera was always amazed by his work- she knew he had been a scientist before going into tattooing but it was easy to forget until you realized that he developed his own inks and medi-gel creams.

She finished her tea and set the cup down on the nearby table so she could pull the temp-top on; it was a special fabric designed to communicate with an omni-tool and avoid ‘wounded’ areas.   The top formed around her chest snuggly as soon as she slipped it on.

Tali shifted, “Command—I mean… Pashera, I don’t actually mind ...nudity. …It just surprised me is all.”

Pashera nodded and decided to change the subject, “How long was I asleep?”

German smiled and came over with the fresh batch of cream for the tattoo. He began rubbing it over the fresh tattoo as he spoke, “It was only about an hour and half. I upgraded my equipment recently and things have been much quicker since then.”

He put a lid onto the small container and handed it to her. She knew the drill- use it at least once a day until the tattoo had fully healed.  

They headed for the exit.

At the exit German took Pashera’s hands and sighed. She knew he wanted to say something but was holding back. She turned to her new quarian friend, “Tali, would you mind waiting for me outside?”

“No problem,” Tali left and Pashera was finally left alone with German.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her up as they kissed. When he set her down she was slightly dizzy from the passion. She had forgotten how breathtaking his kisses were. A wistful small smile flickered over her face as she leaned against his chest.

“Pashera…,” his voice was a little husky. “I’m proud of you. Promise you’ll be careful, I’ve got a weird feeling about what’s going to happen in the future.”  

He tilted her head up and gave her one last kiss before letting go and stepping away.

Pashera nodded and stayed quiet. She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to speak. German had been an important part of her life once- but they had parted after Torfan; it had caused a rift between them that had taken a long time to heal and even then- she knew they could never be together again. Now, they remained good friends and talked as often as they were able but there was no going back.

Pashera hugged him one last time, “ _Mujhē āpakī yāda ātī hai, Būṛhā ādamī._ ”  

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, “I missed you too, ma chère.”  

She pulled from his arms and headed for the door. Tali was outside fidgeting nervously. The walked in silence for a while with Tali seeming more and more agitated before she seemed to suddenly make up her mind and ask, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Pashera burst into laughter so hard she scared a nearby pair of well dressed Salarians- they gave her a dirty look before walking hurriedly away. She wasn’t sure why she found it so funny but the question had surprised her so much it took quite a few minutes before she could stop laughing and answer, “No Tali. He is not my boyfriend. We… used to be together though. I still care for him, but not in the same way.”  She sat heavily on a nearby bench and Tali sat delicately next to her.

“But your… goodbye... seemed rather passionate.”

Pashera gave a sad smile as she watched passing shoppers, “There are no secrets in this world.”

“I-I didn’t mean to see. I can keep it a secret—“

Pashera held up a hand to stop her, “It is fine, Tali. German and I were not a secret. ...I apologize if we made you uncomfortable.” Vaguely, she wondered if she should mention that he was her ex-husband or not.

She decided not.

Tali was quiet for a few minutes, obviously trying to think of what to say. Eventually she fidgeted and said, “He seemed nice.”

Pashera leaned her head back and watched the cars above them as she spoke, “He is. We are friends but our… relationship … things happened and we can not be together.” She looked over at Tali and gave a small smile, “It happens sometimes.”

“Dating is… difficult for a quarian.”

“I imagine dating is difficult no matter what… but I can see how it could have its complications with the quarian immune system and family structures.”

“You seem to know a lot about quarians.”

Pashera stood with a stretch, “To be honest, I have only read about quarians and heard about them from German. You are actually the first that I have met.”

“Oh?” Tali stood and they started walking again.

Pashera nodded, “My parents held the belief that we should learn about as many other races as possible. They had us write an essay on each race actually. It was one of the only things they were strict about us learning.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“Hm? I… not anymore.” Pashera went quiet with a frown.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to bring up a sensitive topic.”

Pashera gave her a flicker of a reassuring smile, “It is ok. I do not talk about it often to be honest. I… had an older brother and two younger... sisters.”

“Uhm… would it be ok if I asked what happened?”

Pashera closed her eyes and sighed; part of her had wanted to say no. “Have you ever heard of Mindoir colony?”

Tali gave a small gasp that indicated she had, “Oh-Oh I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s ok.”

The rest of their walk was quiet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations--  
>  _Cintā mata karō_ \--do not worry, nevermind,  
>  _Dhanyavaad_ \-- thank you/my thanks  
>  _Būṛhā ādamī_ \-- Old man  
>  _Mujhē kṣamā karēṁ_ \-- I am sorry  
>  _Mujhē āpakī yāda ātī hai, (Būṛhā ādamī)_ \-- I miss you/I remember you a lot (old man)
> 
>  
> 
> Only did some minor editing on this chapter. Major thanks to my two editors who helped find the stranger of my mistakes. You two are wonderful. I know it needs polishing but I wanted to make up for the lack of updates.


	6. Hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Hazard (noun):** _a danger or risk/ chance; probability._

 

Pashera stood outside the Normandy in a daze. She had already been happily surprised to find that Garrus and Wrex were determined to join her crew, but just moments ago Anderson had relinquished command of the new ship and crew to her- she had given some small protest but she was still blown away with excitement.

Everyone else had headed into the ship to get comfortable. Remaining behind,  she stood and looked out over the wonderful ship that was now fully under her command.  The sleek design reminded her of one of the old earth jet-fighters and she stood drinking in the sight of it.

Anderson was approaching from the elevator, “I thought you would have left already.”

Pashera dragged her eyes away from the ship and smiled brightly at the man she considered family, “I have sent some crew members out to gather needed items for the mission and additional crew members. We will not be leaving for another hour so I have time to just… stare at her.” She turned her head back to the ship as she finished speaking.

He chuckled, “and here I was thinking you would have preferred a pony.”

“Ponies do not have stealth functions… or cannons.”

“Hah, true enough… I like the dragon by the way. It’s a nice touch.”

Pashera looked down at her arm. She had forgotten for a moment that she was wearing something that showed her tattoos.  She gave a vague smile and looked back out at the ship. Worry was eating through her excitement. There was fear for what this mission was going to bring and she worried how being forced to retire was going to affect her adoptive father. She rubbed a hand over her arm while thinking, “ ... Dad, how are you really doing?”

He shifted beside her, “Honestly? This isn’t how I pictured my career coming to an end. You know pushing papers really isn’t my thing… but you’re the one who can stop Saren.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave a slight squeeze while still being gently aware of her injuries, “I believe in you, kid.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and they stood looking at the ship in silence for a while.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“I know there is more that you have not told me about Saren… I need to know as much as possible if I am going to do this. I need to know what his methods are… what he is capable of.”

Anderson pulled his arm from her shoulders and braced himself on the railing, his head down and his eyes full of memories.  He gave a great sigh, “I was in your shoes twenty years ago, kid. They were considering me for the Spectres.”  He paused and gave her a thin smile, “I ...failed. Didn’t make the cut. It’s not something I’m proud of… we had Intel on a rogue scientist being funded by batarian interests. He was trying to set up a facility to develop illegal AI technology out in the Verge. Alliance intel had done all the work, but the council wanted a Spectre involved.”

Anderson let go of the railing; he stood tall and angry as he continued, “We compromised; I was assigned to help Saren in his investigation. We tracked the scientist to a refining facility on Camala. The plan was simple; sneak into the plant, capture the scientist, sneak back out. Quick, quiet, and a minimum of bloodshed.”

His mouth formed a tight line and he began to pace a little; agitations of the past still fresh in his mind. Pashera watched him with a worried frown as he continued,“Saren and I split up to cover more ground. Then, about halfway through the mission, there was a massive explosion in the refinery core. Officially, it was ruled an accident. But I think Saren detonated it on purpose to draw off the enemy guards. The explosion tore the refinery to shreds. The whole place was on fire. Black smoke chemical clouds poured out into the atmosphere. Nobody survived. There was a camp for the workers and their families nearby… Between the fires and the toxic fumes, the final death count was over five hundred. Mostly civilians. Saren didn’t care. The target was eliminated. Mission accomplished. And I ended up taking the blame.”

He threw up his hands in gesture of frustration, “In his report, Saren accused me of blowing his cover.” Anderson sighed and braced himself back on the railing, “He said it was my fault the guards were ready for us. He claimed that’s why it turned into a massacre.” Pashera could hear the anger and bitterness in his voice as he continued, “Saren’s report was all the proof the council needed to kill my chances of becoming a Spectre.”

She carefully placed a hand on his arm, “There was nothing you could do?”

He shook his head, “Who do you think the council was going to listen to? Me? Or their best agent? I had a bad feeling about him right from the start. I should’ve been more careful... maybe I could have stopped things before they got out of hand.”

She bumped his shoulder with her own, “I will stop him. It will be ok. I will not let you down.”

A thin smile crossed over Anderson’s face, “I know, kid.”

They stood in silence until the crew members returned. Their goodbyes were brief and she passed over a small list of items she was hoping he could get ahold of for her while she was away. She then had made one hopefully ‘very inspiring’ speech to the crew and checked to make sure that everyone had settled in.  She had tried to made sure everyone knew that although it was an Alliance vessel and they would ‘mostly’ follow alliance rules- she wasn’t going to be a strict. There was a silent hope that they would not make her regret that choice.

Now, Pashera was sitting quietly in her cabin as they headed for their first destination.

She was looking over the information that the Council and Alliance had been able to provide and a series of requests that had trickled in from different Alliance sources that needed her to do things the Alliance typically couldn’t.  She rubbed at her face in frustration- Not enough time had passed for her to get leads on Saren, so she had to follow other leads for now and do whatever she could as a Spectre.  

Sighing she got up and stretched. It was going to be another few hours before they got to the Artemis Tao Cluster and they could start looking for the Matriarch’s daughter, Liara. She rubbed the back of her neck and eyed the bed. The temptation to take a nap was feeling pretty strong but she also felt restless. After some thought, she decided to go down into the hold and do some boxing- she’d noticed a punching bag last time she was down there and this was as good a time as any to work out some frustration.

She changed into a tank top and shorts then set off. She began wrapping her hands on the way down the elevator and then began stretching to loosen her muscles. She was warm and ready before the elevator even reached the cargo hold.

She stepped out and gave a nod to the ships requisition officer as she passed by him on her way to the exercise corner.  She eyed the hold while doing some shadow boxing to continue warming her muscles. The exercise felt good even with her sore body.  She glanced around; Garrus who was tinkering with the Mako tank on the far side of the hold, Wrex was brooding nearby against the wall next to the lockers, and Williams was carefully cleaning and taking inventory of the crew's guns at the weapons table.  Pashera hmm’d and tapped her omni-tool. Tali had helped transfer all the info from the old one and that had included Pashera’s music. She started up her favorite mix and piped the sound into her earbud; as it started she bounced on her toes to the beat.  She turned to the punching bag and started a steady rhythm to match the beat of the song.

It had been a good twenty minutes before Wrex’s hand landed heavily on her uninjured shoulder.

She dropped into a crouch and kicked his legs out from underneath him before she even realized that she wasn’t under attack.

Wiping sweat from her forehead with her towel, she offered him a hand up, “ _Mujhē kṣamā karēṁ_ , Wrex. Did you need something?”  

He gave a gravelly chuckle as he stood, “I *was* going to ask if you wanted to actually spar something that could fight back.”

She laughed, “Oh.”

“Well?” He fixed her with a red stare and waited for her response.

“Oh… yes. But against you… I have a few requests-- Minimal armour, no head-butts, and no biotics.” She rolled her shoulders, it had been a while since she had fought a krogan in hand to hand and she had been REALLY drunk that time. She was curious how she would fair now.

“Sounds fair enough. I’m not sure I’d want to be on the receiving end of your biotics anyhow, Shepard.”  

She nodded and glanced around- a sparring mat was set down already and everyone in the cargo hold was watching closely.  She raised an eyebrow and received grins from her crew in return.  Her engineers and Tali came cautiously out of the drive core room. Engineer Adams approached her, “Heard there was going to be one hell of a sparring match. Are you sure you wanna take on a Krogan?”

Pashera gave a ghost of a smile and headed towards to mat without replying. Her mind already focused on the mental checklist for a sparring match. Wrex already stood there- his upper armour striped off and his chest bare. His plated stomach was a cream shade that faded to a pleasant sort of darker red at his sides. His muscles rippled as he flexed.  

He gestured as if to ask her what she was waiting for, “Well, Shepard?”

Her mind finished its analysis on how to approach the fight and she made a show of stretching her arms above her head while giving a pretend yawn. Her goal was to goad him into anger and attacking first. It worked.

He charged with his head low and his body at an angle.

On reflex her body leaned to the side and her knee snapped up in full force into his face. She used the momentum to spin around and dance away from him, her balance shifting from her toes to her heels as she moved.  The krogan stood still for a moment and looked a little dazed. She knew that he wasn’t truly harmed- probably just surprised more than anything.  His face stretched into a grin and he approached her more cautiously.  

He was quicker than she expected; even with his newfound caution.

His fists lashed upward and she blocked it deftly. She could feel that the spots would bruise, but she ignored the pain. Shifting her balance she kicked and he caught it. With a deft motion that might have dislocated her leg- he twisted, but she was ready. She stiffened and allowed her body to spin and her hands smacked into the mat as she landed and rolled away.

“Come one, Shepard. Quit holding back.”

“Alright. But remember that you *asked* for it.”

Their fight became a blur as punches and kicks flew at a frightening rate. It was almost a steady rhythm until he suddenly landed a solid blow to her chest and she doubled over with the wind knocked from her.  

His arms grabbed her from behind.  

Her arms locked to her sides, she began to struggle. He squeezed and lifted her; in return she gave a ferocious kick- landing it squarely between his legs in his quad.  His arms slackened briefly and she gripped his headplate and flipped upwards. As her knees landed on his shoulders, she gripped hard and threw all her weight into a backwards flip. The already off balanced krogan came with.

She rolled away as he hit the mat. Panting, they both stayed lying down for a few minutes before he grumbled, “You win, Shepard. But that was a cheap shot.”

She struggled to her feet and offered him a hand up once again, “As requested, I did not hold back.”

He got up with a grumble and shook her hand before limping to the far wall. Pashera tried not to wheeze as she went and gingerly sat down on a nearby ammo crate. The chatter of the observers was a solid buzz and people came over to give her a slap on the back. She saw a few of the crew members pass over credit chits between themselves and she smiled- of course there would have been bets.

Her chest was giving stabbing pains in warning that something might have been cracked, but it had been worth it. With a wince she braced her elbows on her knees and concentrated on unwrapping her hands; spots of blood were dotting the fabric from when she had landed blows on his plated hide.

“That was… impressive.” Garrus leaned on the wall nearby as everyone drifted off to their respective positions. His posture was nonchalant but his expression was strange. Pashera couldn’t tell if it was worry, admiration, or mild terror.

She gave a wheeze that was supposed to be a laugh and winced again. Her arm curved around her side and she didn’t look up, “Glad you enjoyed the show.”

“You should probably get that looked at.”

“Perhaps,” She went back to unwrapping her hands and once finished she flexed them carefully. She watched the way they moved and checked for breaks. There was only torn skin- a fact she was immensely grateful for since broken knuckles were not her favorite injury in the world.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take on a krogan in a sparring match before. At least, not someone who wasn’t *also* krogan.”

She leaned back and began to gently feel her ribcage to see if it was just bruising or if there truly was a fracture, “I’ll admit. It’s not my first time.”  She said with a grimace as her fingers brushed an area that gave a spike of pain. Definitely a fracture.

“Oh?” his rich voice inquired.

She finished checking her ribs- only one seemed to be damaged. She would have to go and see Dr. Chakwas later. She sighed and laced her hands behind her head and tried to take a breath without stressing the rib, “Yes. I once got into a drinking contest with this big brute named Draxus after a particularly… bad mission.  When I lost the drinking contest... I drunkenly flipped the table and challenged him to a sparring match.”

She moved one hand to rub at her forehead at the memory, “I ended up with the worst concussion I’ve ever had-- I actually won with a head-butt. Very nearly knocked myself out. To this day I am a little surprised my skull is still in one piece.”

“Wait… so you’re telling me you won a head-butting contest with a krogan?”

She grinned up at the turian beside her, “We did not have rules like this fight. It was... more a brawl. I am afraid that in my drunken state I may have used a bit of a biotic charge to hit with-- my biotics are enhanced when I drink… Overall, it was not one of my brightest moments but after drinking that much ryncol… I am actually a little surprised I was able to walk let alone fight.”

“Damn, Shepard. You don’t do anything halfway do you?”

Standing with a slight grimace, she made an effort to hide the pain, “No. ...I guess I do not.”

She left him standing against the wall and headed towards the elevator.

Plans were already forming in her head on what to do with the rest of her day. Infirmary, pain killers, and a nap. Yeah, that sounded good. She gave a laughing wheeze as she stepped into the elevator—this had turned into a very interesting and long day indeed.

 

~~

 

The soft chirp of her alarm woke her. She sat up with a groan as she felt the ache from her sparring match with Wrex.  Bruises dotted her arms, sides, and thighs- he had really gotten more hits in than she had thought.  She grumbled as she sat at the edge of the bed and reached to turn off the alarm.

Dr. Chakwas had given her a small vial of medi-gel that was specifically meant to absorb into the skin for bruises as well as a couple of capsules for the pain. The doctor hadn’t asked what had occurred; apparently, one of the crew had used their omni-tool to record the entire fight and it had already circulated the ship by the time Pashera had reached the med bay.

While trying to wake up, she grumpily rubbed her face before snagging a capsule from her bedside table. She popped it into her mouth and habitually bit down. A fuzzy numbness spread over her tongue and slowly the worst of the ache was gone- she could still feel a twinge from the cracked rib though. She looked at her shoulder and double-checked the bandage that was over her wound. She had been a little surprised that it hadn’t re-opened again in the fight since Wrex had managed to hit it a few times. Dark black bruising surrounded the stark white of the medi-gel patch.

With a sigh she set to first rubbing cream on her bruises and then the special cream from German was spread over her healing tattoos. She hoped that any hits she had taken wouldn’t cause an issue with the tattoo healing properly.

Her fingers gently teased and combed her cloud of curls. Before flopping into bed, she had taken a quick shower and her curls were now a fluffy mess. She knew it could be solved if she was patient.  It took a few minutes but she was able to somewhat tame it into a manageable state before getting up to dress for the day.

Blearily, she sat down at her desk and looked over the files. It was still a few minutes before she needed to head to the cockpit to begin her rounds and she was not quite awake enough to face the crew yet. Her eyes scanned the datapad of information on Liara T’Soni. The asari was supposed to be at a dig site- her main study being Prothean artifacts.  

Pashera chewed her lip in thought- there was a likely chance that this Liara was in on trying to find Prothean artifacts that would lead Saren to the Conduit but there was no proof yet that the daughter actually was a traitor.

She closed her eyes and wished her room had a kettle- she could use a cup of tea. There was almost temptation to drink some of the onboard swill called coffee. With a pout, she decided that next time she was on the citadel she would try to pick up more things for her cabin. It had not occurred to her earlier that she should take time to shop for herself.  She looked around- it had been years since she wasn’t in barrack bunks and having this much space felt strange.  

Her eyes wandered to the edge of the bed where her keepsake box sat next to a small bag that held all her gear. She hadn’t unpacked yet. Pushing away from the desk, she grabbed the bag and began to try and find homes for everything.

Joker’s voice made her jump as he sounded over the comms, “ _Commander, thirty minutes till we reach Artemis Tau Cluster_.”

“Alright. Thank you, I will begin the rounds.”  

She gave up and set the bag down beside the bed again before heading out of her cabin. Stopping briefly in the mess hall, she considered caving to drink the acidic coffee to try and speed up her tired mind. The smell was somewhat appealing but she knew that the taste and inevitable stomach ache would make her regret the decision. Instead, she filled her favorite mug with hot water and headed for the cockpit.

At it was hot and better than nothing.

 

~~

 

Joker jumped when he realized that the commander was standing next to him. He didn’t know why he had jumped—she was there like clockwork every cycle rotation holding that same damn ugly purple mug full of plain hot water. Still, she never failed to scare the daylights out of him with her silent apparition.

He glanced up at her, “Morning, Commander.”

She just mumbled incoherently in reply. He’s found out early on their last mission that she wasn’t a ‘morning’ person.

“Sleep well?”

Pale blue eyes were nothing but slits as she turned her sleepy death gaze at him. She frowned and walked away to make the rest of her rounds.

Joker shrugged and returned to browsing the extra-net while monitoring the ship’s status out of the corner of his eyes. Their conversation was nearly always the same. She was almost worse than Anderson in always seeming pissed. He was still waiting for the inevitable conversation that would come once she read his file.

He adjusted his cap with a frown.

 

~~

 

Alenko wandered the ship looking for the commander.

He was determined to ask her if she wanted to practice with him. Eventually, his search lead him to the control center. Her hair was loose. Tumbling freely over her shoulder as she went over a report with Pressly. She was faced away from him.

Alenko stood nearby and waited.

Pressly looked up repeatedly, but the commander never turned. Alenko felt surprised when she said, “Alenko, I will be with you in a moment.”

Before Alenko could even fully wonder how she knew it was him Pressly asked, “How did you know it was him, ma’am?” Pressly always had a very blunt way of speaking.

The commander’s head raised slightly but she still did not turn to face Alenko.  

“I am aware that my sense of smell is more sensitive than normal, but does no one else use their senses beyond their eyes?” Curiosity and weariness tinged her voice and Alenko wondered what facial expressions Pressly could see. Then he realized that she was implying that she could smell him and he tried to covertly sniff himself.

Her laughter surprised him once again.

He was sure she hadn’t seen him- her back was still to him, yet he was sure she had laughed at his actions.

The commander turned towards him and he was damn near stunned to see the typical blank expression to be replaced with one of bemusement as she said, “Alenko wears a very distinctive aftershave. If that were all- I could still identify him.”

Pressly visibly sniffed the air and shrugged, “Don’t really go around sniffing men, Ma’am.”

She sighed and looked back at the datapad before handing it to Pressly with a small shake of her head, “Sense of smell or hearing has saved me in battle more than once. Every enemy has a distinct smell. Batarian slavers, for example, tend to smell like electric currents, leather, and … cooked meat. However, a higher ranking Batarian tends to wear oils such as _Purtajay_ or _Jaskliine_.  Now turians on the other hand… those are more difficult to pinpoint. Most of them bathe regularly with harsh soaps that leave very little smell. It has a unique scent but I am unable to describe it.”

The commander rubbed a hand through her hair and frowned, “A more recent example of scent would be Eden Prime. I was not able to identify the smell of the geth drones… and it cost us dearly.”

He watched as the commander absently rubbed at her still mending shoulder- seeming lost in thought. He wasn’t sure if he should disturb her. Her eyes snapped back into focus when he shifted.

Sighing, she dropped her hand from her shoulder, “The point was never to go around ‘sniffing men’ as you put it, Pressly. The point is to use your senses to your advantage. Plus… it is not as if the food here is really decent enough to warrant smelling.”

Pressly chuckled, “You’re right on that account, ma’am.”

The commander looked up to Alenko. Head tilted slightly and a flicker of a smile crossing her face, “I doubt you came to hear me speak on smells and regrets. How may I help you, Lieutenant?”

“Actually, ma’am, I was wondering if you would like to practice biotics with me?” He wished he could have put it more eloquently but it was now laid bare between them and there was nothing he could do.

Her brows scrunched for a moment before she nodded and turned to Pressly, “Being scanning local systems as discussed. Keep me informed if you find something.”

Abruptly she turned and marched for the door that lead to out of the control hub. Alenko followed doggedly down the stairs and wondered where she was going. Once they were on level two she stopped and turned towards him, “Would the cargo hold work for practice? We can sit on the mat. However, I must warn you, Alenko, that my biotic skills are… limited.”

Alenko nodded and headed for the elevator, “I didn’t want to be rude, Commander, but I noticed.”

From behind him he could hear a chuckle before she said, “Was it that obvious, Lieutenant?”

“A little, Commander.”

They stepped into the elevator together and he noticed that she was rubbing at her shoulder again.

“That wound still bothering you, Commander?”

Surprised etched over her face and her hand dropped away, “I re-injured it while sparring Wrex. It is simply… a little more sensitive than I would like at this current time.” Her eyes never wavered from the doors of the elevator as she spoke. It was a strange habit she seemed to have- not looking people directly in the eyes.

“Commander… I’m sorry if this seems out of line but why do you not look at people when you speak to them?” He blurted without thinking. He could feel the burn a blush creep up his neck and her head slowly turned. Owl-like. Cold blue eyes focused on him and he felt a chill go up his spine. She simply stared silently until the elevator door opened to the cargo hold.

As she turned away and stepped out, she said, “* _That_ * is why.” She pulled down the mat with ease and folded it so that it took up less space. The turian and krogan were nearby and started watching with veiled interest. She continued speaking as she worked, “I am not averse to meeting the eyes of another. However, most find my gaze... unnerving. The feeling seems to be more common among my human crew members who refer to me behind my back under another name. I avoid your gaze in particular for this reason.”

Alenko felt like she’d landed a gut punch, “Commander, I’ve never called you that... name.”

Her eyes turned towards him once more and he felt the familiar grip of ice down his spine. Her mouth quirked downwards.

“Perhaps,” She turned her eyes away from him, “Perhaps you have never called me ‘The Butcher’ out loud. But you have thought it. Your body does not lie.”

Alenko frowned. She was observant and accurate. He silently cursed himself as he fetched the small spheres from storage that were often used as biotic practice. He wasn’t sure what they had been used for before biotics but they were fairly popular on alliance vessels because the metal was not dense enough to breach the hull if someone threw it too hard. Typically they would crumple, but on rare occasions they could melt and fuse to the hull if one sent them flying hard enough. As a new ship, the Normandy has yet to be graced with any of the discolored blotches from said mistakes.

They set to basics practice and it was soon apparent that she was worse than he thought. After an hour of practice, he’d learned that she was fairly effective at focusing her biotics to a point of her body. She could form basic large shields as well but beyond that… it was a little scary how little control she had on her biotics.

They were working on a simple telepathic pass and Alenko watched as the commander floated the small ball back towards him. Her face set in a frown of determination. It had taken her many tries before she could do it this steadily and he was pleased with her progress.

The ball suddenly crumpled and shot across the room. As it smacked against the far wall she gave a hiss of frustration. Her look went from determination to a sulky pout. He had to resist the urge to laugh.

“Commander, I’m curious how you never learned the basics…” Kaidan began hesitantly.

The commander sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Sweat had begun to make it stick to her head and she was looking tired and drained. She looked away; eyes going to where the crumbled metal ball had been flung. It was actually impressive the amount of force that she had- but terrifying that she had so little control over it.

“I did not have the chance. The books I learned from were less than adequate on explanations, and the alliance focused on training other abilities,” she grabbed one of the spare balls as she spoke and rolled it down her arm in a swift motion. It seemed to glide along her arm and she deftly flipped her hand over to roll the ball back.

Alenko watched with fascination for a few seconds before asking, “Mindior had the highest concentration of Biotics out of any other colony. Didn’t they have a school?”

She stopped the strange rhythmic rolling of the ball and stared at him.

“Kaidan… I did not have knowledge that I was a biotic until after my colony was burned.”

Inwardly he winced.

“Sorry, Commander.”

She shook her head and resumed the strange trick of rolling the ball, “Please do not apologize. You did nothing wrong. The school for biotics on Mindoir was very... impressive. At least, that is what I heard.”

Alenko lifted the ball from her grasp with his biotics. It was a simple thing really- basic lift and hold. Yet the great Commander Shepard couldn’t manage it for more than a few seconds. He no longer even mentally dared to call her The Butcher after their earlier conversation.

“Well, if you are feeling up to it, Commander, let’s give it one more go before stopping practice for today.”

She gave a great sigh and her brow furrowed as she made the hand motion he’d taught her to use for levitation. Since biotics abilities were activated by using a physical gesture that caused the eezo deposits in the body to charge and create the desired effect- her first step was to begin practicing moves and form a link between the motion and the result.

Her biotic glow encompassed his, and he slowly released his biotic hold.

It was almost a full minute this time before it crumbled and fell to the ground.

She sighed and picked up the crumpled remains, “Thank you, Kaidan.”

He noticed that she had used his first name a couple times now and he frowned, “Seems a little informal, ma’am.”

She looked up slowly, “ _Mujhē kṣamā karēṁ_. I will attempt to refrain from using your first name in the future.”

“I don’t really mind,” he said while wondering what she had just said, “How many languages do you actually speak, commander?” Alenko asked while standing with a stretch.

“Three.”

Her answer was curt and he wondered if she was objecting to his asking. Before he could ask more though she sighed and said, “I speak Alliance standard English. Courtesy of my father who was raised on Alpha Station. I speak some Hindi, courtesy of my father who was raised in India.”

She turned her attention to folding and putting up the mat they had been sitting on.

“Uh… Commander, that’s only two.” Alenko said with amusement.

Her eyes flicked up to him as she answered, “I also speak sign language.  …My mother was deaf.”

Alenko frowned as he helped her push the mat into its holding brace, “But with genetic modification that’s fixable, and the Salarians developed that implant to fix those that are born deaf or injured…”

“She was injured in a lab accident. She… chose not to get the implant,” the commander said while looking away.

Alenko finished clicking the securing straps into place while he thought. Sign language was considered a dead language for the most part. Alliance training had some basic battle communication signs but that was it. He looked up at the commander, “Why?”

Her eyes closed and she took a deep, slow breath before answering, “I once asked. She said she liked the silence. It helped her listen to her mind. Alenko… I really would prefer to no longer speak about this.”

Alenko nodded, “We should eat. Care to join me in the mess?”

A thin thin smile was pressed onto her lips, “I would be pleased to do so.”

Together they headed for the elevator.

 

~~

 

Several days later, Pashera stood next to the dead body of a thresher maw and could feel a twitch starting in her eyebrow. The giant ground worm now lay in a puddle of its own blood, guts, and acid. This entire mission had been one big cluster fucked stress-fest. They had spent days in a routine of scanning planets for the dig site, answering distress call beacons, fighting random outlaws and now THIS.  Part of her wanted to blast the body back into the ground with enough biotics to create a small crater but her more reasonable nature was telling her that risking splattering the acid could be a deadly mistake.

She leaned back against her mako tank while her team looked over the distress beacon  that had lead them there. Nearby, part of a ruined tank and what was left of a squad of dead Alliance Marines were scattered on the ground. At least now she could give a report on what happened to Admiral Kohoku’s men. She wanted to rub at her forehead in frustration but the breathing helmet prevented it. One more aggravation to a growing list.  

“Commander?” Williams stood nearby holding a piece of the now disabled beacon, her face couldn’t been seen through the breathing helmet but Pashera could hear the hesitation in her voice.

“Yes, Chief?”

“It looks like this was deliberately-- “

“I know!” Pashera fist slammed into the mako’s side and she turned and stormed away from the group.

She stood looking over the bleak yellow sands of the world and tried to calm herself.  She was tired, grouchy, and sick with guilt. Although she knew the deaths of these soldiers were not something she could have prevented she still felt angry for not having gotten there sooner. Add on the phobia of having to hear her own breathing in a helmet and she was ready to send someone biotically into the atmosphere.

Wrex walked over to stand next to her. Together they stood quiet while looking over the empty landscape. It was almost peaceful; debri from the nearby asteroid field created a constant rain of small meteors that never reached the ground fully.

She kicked at the sandy, yellow, pea soup colored ground while thinking of how to manage the situation. It seemed like this might take longer than expected- they had begun to run a little lower on supplies than she was comfortable with. Add on that the constant hopping from planet to planet had left her crew tired and she couldn’t ask them to keep pushing and risk a mistake.

“Almost reminds me of home,” Wrex’s rumbling voice broke into her brooding.

“Yeah?”

“Almost.”  He turned and walked back to the Mako without saying more.

She looked out over the land with a frown. It looked like a dusty hell. Then with realization she chuckled to herself, “Of course it does.” With that she turned and she radioed Joker for a pick-up.

 

~~

 

She sat on an ammo crate in her underarmour; a tight tank top and pair of form fitting pants that helped with temperature regulation. Her suit lay in a heap next to her feet and she was rubbing her face tiredly.  They hadn’t even gotten the chance to get the dust off from the last planet before the ship ran across a nearby slaver rig.

She leaned forward into her hands and her dog-tags gave a soft jingle as they fell forward.

“Commander, we’ve got another reading.”  

Pashera wanted to kill Joker.

“Joker… I am done for today. We will get it tomorrow.” She was pretty sure if she stayed sitting she might actually simply fall asleep on the crates. The more she thought about it, the more okay she was with that very idea.

“Uh…”

Pashera’s head came up at the odd sound in his voice, “something you are not telling me Joker?”

“Well, Commander… It’s geth. Like, a lot. And if these readings are correct then this is also the dig site we were looking for.”

Pashera sighed and started digging into a pocket on her suit. She knew she had emergency energy pills and she was going to need one.  She took the pill and looked to the rest of her squad. Almost everyone looked worn but one of her squad in particular seemed near dead on his feet.

“Alenko. Front and center.”

He cautiously stepped to stand in front of her, “Yes, Commander?”

“You are to report to Dr. Chakwas.”

“Comman—“

“That was an order not a request, Lieutenant. Report to the med bay,” She stood and leaned in close, “Am I making myself clear?”

She seemed to have surprised him and he almost stepped back from her but his military training kicked in. He stiffened and gave a quick salute, “I-- Yes, Ma’am.”

She watched him leave, she knew L2 implanted Biotics often suffered nasty complications and his file had mentioned that his implant was in fact an L2. His skin had been clammy and pale with pain and she was hoping that Dr. Chakwas would be able to take care of him. He had been giving the tale-tale signs of a headache for several missions but hadn’t mentioned being in pain. The lieutenant didn’t seem to  know that when he was suffering a heachache he would rub his forehead with the back of his hand- as if his knuckles could push away the pain. She did a similar move when her own implant would flair and cause a migraine.

She looked over the rest of her crew with a firm frown. “I will offer each of you a choice. You have all done exceptional work this last week. I understand that we are putting in more hours than I care for today, but it seems we may have finally found the dig site.” Her blue eyes flashed with anger, “You have all been previously briefed on the situation. Now… either the enemy beat us to the punch or this Miss T’Soni is a traitor like her mother. Either way, we are to secure the area and attempt to gain information on The Conduit. Most of you are not Alliance; You are here voluntarily. Thusly, I am giving you the option to volunteer for this mission since I know we all could use a rest.”

She bent to pick up her armour, “Whoever wishes to come- suit up. We jump in ten.”

She turned to the wall and refused to look at her crew as she pulled on her armour. Partially it was because energy pills always made her implant feel like it was lit on fire for the first few minutes and partially because she held the slight fear that everyone would end up opting out and she was going to have to run the mission alone. Her teeth clamped hard as she fought the pain in her skull and tried to pull her sweat soaked armour back on. Once dressed, she knelt in prayer for the upcoming mission and for the safety of her crew; should anyone actually join her.

Hesitantly, she turned to see if anyone else was going to be joining her.  Everyone was suited up and giving their gear and guns a careful look-over.  She smiled to herself and went over to a locker against the wall. With a smack, it popped open and she pulled out five small packets. She was grateful she’d  had the foresight to pick them up before they left the Citadel. It had been expensive but well worth it.  

She closed the locker and approached the crew.

Pashera held up a packet, “This- is an emergency energy and nutrient gel. It can be ingested or it can be used topically similar to medi-gel but not to seal wounds. I am not sure how many of you are familiar with this type,” she slowly began to pass them out being sure to give the bluish Dextro based packets to Tali and Garrus. “If you need, I would suggest using one now. If you feel you don’t… I suggest holding on to it. I am not sure how long this mission is going to end up being.”

Slowly, she tucked the last packet into her own pocket, “Let us move out.”

 

~~

 

The Mako tank bounced over the terrain like the ground was made of jello. They'd turned off the stabilizers to direct energy to the shields. Pashera had begun to feel a little ill as Wrex kept the mako at a grueling pace to plow through the geth ground forces in an attempt to get to the main dig site.  Resolutely, she held the strap hanging from the ceiling and braced her legs.

After a few minutes the Mako came to a rather abrupt halt.

“Hm.” Wrex said with a grumble.

“Hm?” Pashera looked towards the front of the tank and could see instantly what ‘hm’ was.  The path narrowed to a thin footpath and was blocked by a high rock outcropping. The tank could go no further. She might have cheered if it didn’t look like it was going to be an uphill hike and there were enemy troops inbound.

Wrex slowly got up from the driver’s seat and nodded.  Pashera returned the nod and popped the hatch. Within a few minutes everyone was out but Williams; who she ordered to stay in the Mako. She knew they needed it to get off this lava filled death trap and someone had to keep enemies from coming up the path behind them.

They made a mad bullet and laser filled dash up the path and the team made quick progress. Pashera looked over her crew and saw that Tali seemed to be lagging behind.  She crouched behind a rock and held up a fist; her team gathered at her position.

“Quick breather here. Then we make the last push to the top of this hill.” She said quietly while jerking her head in the direction of the hill. “If anyone hasn’t taken their energy packet and feel they need it- I suggest doing so now.”  

She watched as everyone but Wrex used their packets. She knew he probably had more than enough energy to last this mission even if he looked a little tired; krogan were known for their stamina. Sighing, she checked the area scans on her omni-tool. There was a jamming signal at the top of the hill and she could get no reads on what may or may not be up there. She closed her eyes and prayed to the spirit of the land that nothing too difficult awaited them.

Once everyone was ready, they set out.

There was no resistance.

They reached the top of the hill were a large building sat and Pashera sniffed the air while looking around- there had to be something. She couldn't seem to smell anything through the sulfuric stench caused by the nearby lava. Sweat trickled down her back. Her eyes flicked over the landscape as she looked for the danger.

Kch-BOOM. **Kch-BOOM**. Kch-BOOM.

Large geth units dropped from above like a rain of synthetic boulders. The ground shook with each impact and  the largest of the units unfolded itself into a giant four legged monstrosity. As it unfolded, a blue glow began around its head section. Pashera didn’t realize until it was too late that the glow was actually an electrical charge building up to fire.

The blast hit her full in the chest.

She went down hard as her muscles spasmed.  Wrex grabbed her twitching body and hauled her behind cover in one quick movement. Thankfully, her suit seemed to be defusing the worst of the blast but blood trickled down her nose- she was sure there was some damage to her implant and she could feel a few parts of her suit overloading. Stinging snaps of electricity flicked over her skin where circuits popped.

As she regained control of her limbs she forced herself into a kneeling position.  With gritted teeth she glanced around the cargo container that Wrex had dragged her behind and nearly got shot with another round of unpleasant electricity. She ducked and thought for a minute before having an idea.  With some strain, she biotically lifted four grenades out of a canister on her hip and floated them over her cover to the large machine. All the while she was silently praying that she could keep her biotics controlled long enough to have them reach her goal.

A few seemingly long seconds later a deliciously meaty explosion was her reward. With a quick peek it was confirmed that all enemies were down and she sat down heavily against the cargo container.

 

~~

 

Garrus watched as the commander was hit by an electric blast.

The krogan hauled her out of the way of the next blast and Garrus focus his attention on the nearby enemies. They would need to eventually find a way to get rid of the colossus that was firing at them but he could at least clear the smaller geth in the meantime.

He caught sight of the commander lifting a series of grenades and his eyes widened- that should certainly do the trick against the larger geth.

He fired at the last standing geth trooper and ducked as the grenades found their target.

After the explosion there was a soft thud as the commander sat down on ground and closed her eyes. Blood trickled from her nose.  Garrus quickly ran over to check on her. He knelt beside her and began a scan with his omni-tool. The scan told him her suit was done for- nearly every circuit had been overloaded but he couldn’t get a reading beyond that. He felt a sense of relief though that she was breathing and when her eyes cracked open he flared his mandibles in a grin, “Damn, Commander. You okay?”

Wrex was standing nearby and her eyes drifted to the krogan briefly before her attention returned to Garrus and she said, “Yes…” Her blue eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath.

After a few shaky breaths she began to struggle in an attempt to stand and Garrus offered her a hand. This time, he felt no hesitation in doing so. She accepted it and he pulled her to her feet.

“We will proceed,” she said while limping towards the nearby ramp that lead to the dig site.

Garrus shook his head in amusement. Over the past week he’d gotten to know the commander a little- she always came down to spend a few minutes chatting or handing him tools while he tinkered with the mako. He liked the busy work tinkering offered and after missions she asked for only very brief mission reports from her squad. So far- she was by far his favorite person he’d ever worked for. More-so when he’d found out that she’d ordered special foods specifically for turians and it *didn’t* taste revolting. Not many humans would go so far for their alien teammates.

He caught sight of her gun and his mandibles pulled tight in a frown- there was a jagged crack  through the small pistol and she hadn't apeared to have noticed it yet. That gun was nothing more than well formed scrap at this point. He shook his head and pulled his own spare pistol out.

While they were waiting for the door to the area to open, she looked down at her gun and he gave a low chuckle at the face she made. He nudged his elbow against hers. When she looked up he held out his pistol.

A glimmer of a smile passed over her face as she nodded and accepted the gun before heading off.

 

~~

 

It was not long before Pashera knelt in prayer for patience. Their way had been blocked by a massive shield generator and the only other way was a rather rickety looking elevator. Tali was nearby trying to see if she could bypass the shield but so far there had been no progress.

“Commander, if I may ask, I’ve seen you kneel like that a few times since we’ve met. What exactly are you doing?” Garrus asked as she stood.

Pashera looked at him with surprise, although she had not kept her prayers secret she had also tried not to advertise it. “Uh…” she wasn’t sure how to answer. Tali glanced up from where she was and answered for her, “She’s obviously praying. From the hand position I’m guessing she’s a  _Peace’ahnite_. Well... actually since she's military I think she's what would be referred to as a Peace-Knight. Anyhow, It’s a popular religion in human colonies. There’s a quarian ship that’s adopted the religion.”

Pashera blushed, apparently more people had noticed than she thought. She rubbed the back of her neck and tried to answer, “Tali, is correct. However, I do not… follow it as closely as others. It is more a tool of focus and patience than anything. Most of the rituals...I do not participate in.”

Garrus eyed her, “Ah. Not a lot of religion in turian culture nowadays. We had some old religions but they died out when we started space travel.”

Tali stood and dusted off her hands, “Well this thing isn’t coming down anytime soon. I’m sorry, Commander.”

Pashera nodded, “That is fine, we will risk trying the old elevator.”

The elevator worked- but it stopped short of the ground due to a collapsed cat-walk. Pashera rolled her eyes and carefully leapt down after scanning the area for danger beyond possibly spraining an ankle. When she landed, a thin sounding female voice called out, “Uh… hello? Could somebody help me? Please?”

Pashera tightened her grip on her gun and glanced around. Another shield wall was nearby, and she could barely make out a figure that floated oddly behind it.  Pashera approached carefully with the others close in tow.

“Can you hear me out here? I’m trapped. I need help!”  The figure called again.

Pashera gave a nod to the others before saying, “We hear you. Are you harmed?”

The figure didn’t move but their answer had a tinge of panic, “If you can hear me, I need help. I activated this Prothean Security device by accident and I can’t move. Please, please help me.”

Pashera looked around. It didn’t appear that the person could hear but it did seem like they could see. She wasn’t sure if it would work or the person would understand but she made the galactic standard gesture for ‘okay’ with her hands and the figure answered, “Oh, oh thank the goddess. There is a control in here that can deactivate it but you’ll have to get by the barrier curtain. I-I don’t know how you’ll get in here though…”

Pashera sighed and rubbed her face with the mounting exasperation of the day- one thing after another it never seemed to end.  She made the ‘okay’ symbol again and looked around to see if there was something she could do. Wrex tapped her shoulder and pointed. A large mining laser lay nearby. She looked at Wrex and grinned; maybe they could do this after-all.

After some fiddling, the cannon gave a roar of sound and a beam pierced the ground. A gaping hole in the old ruins was their entrance. 

Soon they stood before the figure who they could now see was a young asari trapped in a strange sort of bubble. Pashera sighed and gave a silent prayer of hope that letting this girl go wasn’t going to be a terrible mistake.  Wrex tapped her arm with his gun, “Not so fast, Shepard. You sure she’s on our side? Her Mother’s working with Saren.” 

Pashera frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Keep your weapon on her for now. We do not yet know if she is a traitor or not. Though, the geth seem to be hunting her, so there may be a safe bet that she is on our side. However,” Pashera gave him a thin smile, “if I think she is a threat you have my permission to shoot her until there is nothing but a fine paste left. However, that is only *if* I give you permission. Understood?”

He gave a nod and his red eyes focused back on the girl.

Pashera walked over to a set of controls and pressed the most promising looking button. The girl fell heavily from where she had been suspended. A winded 'Oooff!' echoed around the room when she hit the hard floor and sat in a dazed heap.

“Liara T’Soni?” Pashera walked forward and pointed her pistol into the face of the kneeling girl.

“I—Yes? I…” Wide frightened eyes met Pashera’s and the girl stopped her struggle to get up.

“Who are you working for?”

“W-what?!”

“WITH WHOM. ARE. YOU. WORKING. FOR?” Pashera said each word carefully, her eyes narrowed as she read the reaction of the girl who knelt before her.

“I don’t know what you mean; this dig was part of my own personal research.”  Frustration and truth were etched in the tension and tone of the asari's answer.

Pashera tilted her head, “Are you not working with Saren like your mother?”  
  
Anger flared in Liara’s eyes as she answered, “I already told that turian bastard I want nothing to do with him! If you’re with them then you might as well just shoot me now!”

Pashera nodded and holstered her weapon. “Good.” She turned and walked away- leaving the confused asari on the ground. Wrex grumbled as he lowered his gun and followed.

“I-I don’t understand.” Liara said as she got to her feet.

Pashera gave a shrug and looked around, “You do not have my trust Miss T’Soni but for the moment you have proven that I do not need to kill you.” Her eyes landed on a nearby area that looked like an elevator.

“Dr. actually. And how did you get past the barrier curtain?” Liara asked with curiosity.

“Ah, for that we used the nearby mining laser to blast our way through.” Pashera filed the name adjustment away for later.

“Oh… Of course. Yes. That makes sense.”

A low rumble rolled through the ruins followed by everything giving a soft shudder.

Wrex looked around nervously, “What the hell was that?”

Pashera frowned as she checked her omni-tool’s readings, “It seems that blasting our way through may have caused some trouble. *Miss* T’Soni, is that a lift over there and are you able to operate it?” She gestured towards the small platform nearby.

“Oh… yes,” Liara wandered over to the console and began rapidly typing. Pashera watched for a moment before reaching up to press the comm radio on her visor, “Joker! I need the Normandy airborne and lock onto Williams signal.  Williams, I think we may be coming your way with... hot tails.”

Joker’s voice crackled onto the comm, “ _Aye, aye, Commander. Secure and away. ETA eight minutes_.”

Williams gave a quick ‘affirmative’ as well over the comms and Pashera and the others made their way to the small lift. The lift was smooth- not quite what one would have expected from a 50,000 year old ruin but a pleasant surprise nonetheless. However, a less pleasant surprise awaited them near the top.

A large krogan battlemaster and a handful of geth stood blocking the exit. “Surrender. Or don’t. That would be more fun,” he gave a nonchalant shrug as he spoke.

Pashera crossed her arms to hide the biotic buildup in her fist, “Well… I would desire to warn you that this ruin is collapsing, but who am I to keep you from having enjoyment.” She could feel a new trickle of blood start from her nose as she strained to build her charge. She was going to pay for this expenditure of energy later.

“Heh, I like your attitude.” He chuckled.

Pashera’s blast hit him before he could shoot his weapon. He went flying and hit the far wall with  sickening crunch. The geth crumpled just as easily when the squad unloaded onto them.

Then they ran.

The rumble of churning earth following them as the ruin began to collapse.

“MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!” Pashera yelled them onwards as she took up the rear of the group and created a biotic shield to protect them from the worst of the falling rocks. Her head was throbbing as they all burst into the light of day with a great cloud of dust following them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translation:**  
>  _Mujhē kṣamā karēṁ_ \- I am sorry
> 
>  
> 
> Scents mentioned-  
>  **Purtajay-** Rare Flower from Batarian homeworld. Can be compared to earth scent; patchouli mixed with rose. The flower grows on a small eastern continent in the shadow of a mountain. 
> 
> **Jaskliine-** Musky scent oil from Batarian homeworld. Most humans would describe the scent as a smoky citrus with a heavy animal musk base. This oil is made from the bark of an uncommon migrating tree that grows in the Norther Hemisphere of Khar'shan. The process of collecting the bark is dangerous and it is illegal to collect in a manner that kills or permanently wounds the tree. Depending on when it is harvested the scent can also carry a 'mossy undertone'.
> 
>  
> 
> [[ Another Chapter. Only lightly edited. I know November is going to be a quiet month for updates so I'm trying to get up as much as possible now. ♥ Thank you to my lovely editors. You two are wonderful and help me catch the most interesting of mistakes. I'll be uploading the chapter art when I find where I left my sketchbook as it seems to have vanished.]]


	7. Bad Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **bad (adjective):** _not such as to be hoped for or desired; unpleasant or unwelcome_   
>  **mem·o·ries (noun) :** _something remembered from the past; a recollection._

 

Pashera braced herself against the wall of the shower and hung her head. The cold water felt like a blessing on her bruised skin. She watched the grime and dirt as it slowly was washed away. They had not even been on the ship five minutes when the council was asking for a full oral report. She had stood before their holographic forms and with silent sarcasm, hoped that the blood wasn’t too much of a distraction for them. Once she had finished with her meeting, Dr. Chakwas had dragged her to the med-bay to do scans of her implant. Thankfully, it seemed that no lasting damage was done but she would have to take it easy and avoid using her biotics for a few days.

Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing since Alenko was probably too angry to practice with her.

She gave a great sigh, eventually she would have to finish her shower and collect the reports from her team. Before leaving to shower, she had ordered that Liara have a guard at all times until Pashera could figure out what to do with the young asari. Thankfully, the guard really wasn’t needed- Liara had collapsed from exhaustion not long after they boarded the Normandy. Apparently, she’d been in the bubble for a while.

Pashera finished washing and shut off the shower.  The towel was warm against her skin after the cool caress of the water; she wrapped it around her chest and walked out to her room. She looked around. It felt strange having her own cabin on the ship and even weirder having a private bathroom.  She sat onto the bed and flopped back.  She didn’t care if it got a little damp she just wanted to lean back.

She must have fallen asleep because she awoke to a soft knock on her door.

A voice called through the door, “ _Commander Shepard? It’s Dr. Liara T’Soni. They said you wanted to speak with me?"_

Pashera sat up with a start; she was still in nothing but a towel and she didn’t want to upset this Liara by accident the way she had with Tali.

“Just a moment,” she called as she dashed over to her bag. She pulled out a clean tank top and shorts and pulled them on quickly while hopping towards the door.

She pressed button to open the door and it slid open to reveal Alenko and Liara. 

Pashera blinked, “Kaiden? I don’t…”

Alenko looked away from her and stiffly said, “I’m the one in charge of watching Dr. T’Soni, ma’am.”

Pashera sighed and turned away from the door, “Then both of you please enter and have a seat.” She gestured at the small table nearby.

Since there were only two seats at the table she took the nearby desk chair and turned it to face them.

Liara fidgeted and Alenko refused to meet her eyes.

Crossing her arms Pashera said, “Lieutenant Alenko, I appreciate you staying back on the last mission. I needed someone here to have been rested in case I needed a fresh pair of eyes. I trust that Dr. Chakwas has given both of you a clean bill of health?” She shifted and crossed her legs. She wanted to go back to sleep and her body ached but she knew it was necessary to suss out where Liara was on the scheme of things.

Alenko wore a tight lipped frown but said nothing.

Liara was the one to speak, “Dr. Chakwas is an excellent doctor; she assured me I was going to be fine. I was impressed with her knowledge of asari physiology. … Commander, I have never thanked you properly for saving me. If you hadn’t shown up…”

Pashera waved a hand as if to wave away the words, “I am pleased to have gotten there in time.”

Liara leaned forward, “I must apologize, Commander. I have learned that you are looking for The Conduit. I’m afraid that I do not know any more about it than the fact that it is linked with the disappearance of the Protheans who are my real area of study.”

Pashera’s gaze slid towards Alenko's face. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes but she was fairly sure where Liara had heard the information from. A frown pulled at Pashera’s lips, “Interesting.”

Liara seemed to not notice and continued talking, “I’ve spent the past fifty years trying to figure out what happened to them. The Protheans left remarkably little behind. It’s almost as if someone did not want the mystery solved.”

“I see,” Pashera said mildly as she steepled her fingers, “Perhaps I can assist with your research. The Protheans were wiped out by a race of sentient machines called The Reapers.”

This seemed to catch Liara off guard, “The—the Reapers? But I have not heard of—How do you know this? What evidence do you have?”

Pashera tapped her temple, “Here. I came into contact with a damaged Prothean beacon. It burned a vision into my mind. I am still trying to sort out what most of it means.”

Liara stared like a startled blue cow, “I—yes. That makes sense. The beacons were designed to transmit information directly into the mind of the user. But… beacons were only programmed to interact with Prothean physiology. Whatever information you received would have been confused, unclear. I’m amazed you were able to make sense of it at all. A lesser mind would have been utterly destroyed by the process. You must be remarkably strong-willed, Commander.”

Pashera gave her a tight lipped smile, “I like to think so.”

Alenko interjected, “None of this is helping us find Saren. Or the Conduit.”

Pashera turned her bright blue eyes on him and his mouth snapped shut. Once again he wouldn’t meet her eyes. His shoulders were tense with anger. Looking back to Liara she said, “It seems Protheans are part of this equation, Dr. T’Soni. I suppose that means that I could use a Prothean expert onboard. Should you wish it, you are welcome to stay.”

“Thank you, Commander. If Saren came after me again…”

Pashera cut her off with another wave of her hand, “However, should you betray my trust or this crew I will personally send you to the star road. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Liara looked startled and like she wanted to say more but instead she bowed her head, “Perfectly, Commander Shepard.”

Pashera nodded, “Then you are dismissed.” Her eyes focused on Alenko, “However, Alenko and I still need to speak.”

Liara looked between them and then made a hasty retreat. Once the door had closed behind the Asari, Pashera fixed Alenko with an icy stare, “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

Alenko stared at her for a few minutes before asking, “Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

Pashera gave a tired wave of her hand with a nod. She had a feeling that she knew what it was about but she knew he needed to get it out of his system before it caused issues later.  
  
“Commander, I was the only person that you pulled off that last mission. I want to know why you treated me differently. I feel like it wasn’t appropriate or fair—I was perfectly capable of going on that mission like everyone else,” the anger and resentment was clear in his voice.

Pashera stood and paced while choosing her words, “Alenko, I have lost many people under my command. I have made mistakes.  One of those mistakes was not paying attention to the state of my crew in the past.  It was my call to make… but you were no longer fit for duty.”

She braced her hands on the table and looked him in the eyes, “I understand that you like to power through any complications your implant may cause but it is my duty to judge whether or not you are fit to fight. There was a high percentage that your condition would cause your death- or the death of someone else. There was no special treatment. I was simply doing my *job*as commander.” She turned and walked over to her keepsake box and opened it. Quickly picking up a small picture frame, she walked back to the table and set it before him.

The picture was of a squad of people all smiling before a big mission.  She pointed at one of the people, “This was a man named John Dackerson; he was an L2. I missed the warning signs and he collapsed on the mission.” Her finger moved to another person, “This is Betsy Gretters, she was our engineer.  She died because John’s shields collapsed.” She pointed at another, “This is Billy Cree. Billy died because he was wounded and I failed to notice, he hid his wound and made a mistake because of it. It cost him his life.”

Pashera slapped the table with her free hand and looked into Alenko’s face, “My job is to try and make sure that I bring **everyone** home *and* the mission succeeds. I CANNOT do that if my crew is not 100%. Alenko, I could have kept anyone back- it ended up being you because you’d spent several missions pushing yourself and thinking I wouldn’t notice. I allowed it and hoped you would come forward eventually. However, I will do everything in my power to never have another Torfan, Alenko.”

He dropped his eyes to stare at the picture that lay on the table.  A picture that was full of memories and some of her biggest regrets. Ghosts of actions she could never change. She fervently hoped that what she had said had gotten through to him. Her crew needed to think about their actions before it killed them or another squad member and she saw potential in Alenko as a leader.

“I… I apologize, Commander. I didn’t think of it that way. I think I assumed that you were singling me out because you didn’t think I was good enough.”

She sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, “Alenko, you are a great soldier. I couldn’t have asked for a better team- but it’s my job to understand the limits of those I work with and you had reached yours.”

She allowed her hand to drop to her side, “Are we fine, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah… yeah. I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“Good. Then you are dismissed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Alenko stood up to leave, “Oh, I almost forgot, Commander. Joker received a message that some supplies you requested have been delivered to the Citadel and are now ready for pick-up.”

“Ah… please tell him to set a course for the Citadel then. However, I would like to try and get some proper sleep and would like to not be disturbed unless it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alenko slunk out the door like a dog who’d been caught in the trash but Pashera hoped that her speech would make an impact on how he approached missions in the future.

Her shoulders slumped as she picked up the picture and she brushed her fingers gently over the surface. They had been on other smaller missions but that picture was taken before their first big mission… and she had failed them so badly. Her chest hitched with the guilt and sadness and she placed the picture back into her keepsake box.

Pashera tossed herself bodily onto the bed and stared at the ceiling- lost in memories until she fell into fitful sleep.

~

_Fire._

_She stood in her old room in Mindoir and fire was creating dancing shadows on the wall. Wails of the dying came from outside and the smell of burning flesh wafted on the breeze._

_A scream._

_It came from the twins room._

_CRACK. CRACK._

_The sound of a pistol and more screams. It felt like her legs were lead as she ran out of her room- skidding on the cold, hard floor- and towards the room her sisters slept in. She burst through the door and over them stood a man—_

~

Pashera awoke with a start; sweat soaked her top and her heart felt like it was trying to pound its way out of her chest. Her teeth were clenched to keep from crying out and her stomach was in knots. With shaking hands she hurriedly pawed through her bags for the pills she kept for her panic attacks. Her heart gave a painful thump. She found the bottle and opened it; the empty bottle stared up at her and the world slowed to a crawl.

It seemed she was out.

She leaned back, and her eyes locked on the wall as time crawled by.

After a minute, her hands finally dropped the empty bottle and she tucked her shaking hands under her legs. Rocking back and forth- trying desperately to keep breathing normally and fighting off the rising panic attack.The shaking hit her shoulders and she couldn’t hold back the silent sobs and she shifted to press her hands to her eyes. Hands pressed hard enough to hurt she rocked. As if holding the tears back could hold back the blind panic that was clawing it’s way out. Old memories were burned into the back of her lids though and there was never a true escape. These were things she couldn't truly get away from- only hide and push away.

There was nothing but the sole focus of breathing.

Slowly, she managed to calm enough to wash her face and change into a loose pair of pants and clean top. Her mouth was a tight thin line as she headed across the mess area towards the med-bay. Hope burned in her chest that no one would notice her appearance- thankfully it appeared that no one was there and she quickly made it to the med bay.

The doors opened and Pashera looked around. Dr. Chakwas didn’t appear to be present. She walked to the back room and the door slid open to Dr. Chakwas speaking with Liara.  Pashera crossed an arm over her chest. Her fingers dug into her limp arm as she forced herself to walk forward when all she wanted to do was bolt from the door at the sight of Liara.

Dr. Chakwas took one look at her and went to a nearby cabinet, “I thought you might be nearing the end of what I gave you. I took the liberty of picking up more last time we were on the Citadel- you should really try to pick up more *before* you run out though.”

Liara looked over with concern, “Are well, Commander? You look… well I haven’t had a lot of experience with your species but you look a little shaken.”

Pashera gave her a brave smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “I’m fine.” Her voice came out a strangled whisper and she winced. It was obvious that she wasn’t.

Dr. Chakwas fixed her with a stern look; she was one of the few people that knew of Pashera’s nightmare issue and panic attacks that tended to come afterwards. The chink of glass brought Pashera’s attention to the doctor pouring three glasses of some sort of alcohol.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Liara said trying to wave off the alcohol.

“Well I’ve already poured it. Why don’t we all sit and chat for a bit,” Dr. Chakwas’ eyes lingered on Pashera, “I think we could all use some time to unwind.”

Pashera blushed. She could face down a million enemies nude with nothing but a stick and do so with confidence and flair. She could manage a crew for a mission like the hardest of bitches… but put her in a room where she had to act normal and socialize and she was scared silly.

Chakwas handed her a drink and steered her towards a chair then did the same to Liara. Once both her ‘patients’ were sitting the doctor leaned against some nearby crates and sipped her drink while making hawk eyes at Pashera.

Pashera drank meekly. Normally, she didn’t mind drinking with Chakwas, but her last contact with Liara had essentially been a death threat and she didn’t feel like this was making a great impression.

“So what was it this time?” The doctor asked bluntly. She was not going to let Pashera get away with staying quiet just because Liara was there.

Pashera bowed her head and her hair fell forward to cover her face like a black cloud, “Mindoir. My sisters.”

“Alenko, told me you gave him quite the verbal lashing and spoke of Torfan. Even mentioned you showed him the picture.”

“Yes.”

“Hm. How are the bruises from your match with Wrex healing?”

Liara’s eyes zoomed to Pashera, “You fought that krogan?”

Pashera looked down at the glass as she swirled the alcohol , “I have the feeling he was testing me... to see if I was worth fighting under.  He challenged me to a sparring match and I accepted.” She leaned over and pulled up her pant leg to show Chakwas her leg.

Liara's eyes widened as she said, “Oh. I’m surprised he let you walk away with only a few bruises. I… I saw them when you spoke to me earlier but I didn’t realize they weren’t normal.”

Pashera raised her eyebrow and felt some of her usual pep return, “Let me walk away? You will have to see if one of the crew can show you the recording of the fight sometime.”

“I’ve got it here,” Chakwas said; clearly enjoying herself as she brought the video up on one of the nearby screens.

Pashera watched with interest, she hadn’t seen the recording yet and she was curious what the take-down had actually looked like. They watched in silence and sipped their drinks as the video played.

“Wow. You… you actually won a hand-to-hand battle with a krogan battlemaster,” Liara looked like she was about to become a raving fan.

Pashera raised a hand to try and stem the tide as she spoke, “I was taught some tricks by my father, and it was not the first time I have gone head to head with a krogan. I am sure many will be able to recount the tale, but all in all I feel as if I cheated.”

Chakwas snorted with her disbelief, “Using tactics is not cheating, Pashera.”

Pashera smiled more easily and sipped what she now guessed was some sort of brandy, “I suppose.” She had begun to feel better and the painful tightness in her chest was starting to fade.

Liara looked confused, “I thought your name was Shepard.”

Chakwas let out an adorable bark of a laugh and Pashera felt her cheeks burn as she sipped her drink, “Shepard… is my last name. It is military standard to go by last name but Karin and I have been friends for a while and she tends to use my first name.”

Liara leaned forward and smiled brightly. Small dimples were emphasized on her cheeks in the dim lights of the storage room as she spoke, “I like it. It’s pretty.”

Pashera felt as if someone has it her face on fire as she mumbled a polite thanks while staring pointedly at the floor.

Chakwas held two small vials of pills out towards Pashera. “Red is sleep. Blue is for panic. You need rest, Pashera. I can tell the amazing tales of your daring heroics while you sleep. Shoo.”

Pashera nodded and downed her glass, “ _Dhanyavaad_ , Karin.” She looked at Liara, “I…  apologize if I came off as a little harsh when we met. _Dhanyavaad_.” She gave a small bow and left quickly with her vials in her hands.  The exhaustion from the last few days and the alcohol were mixing well enough that she had begun to feel tired.

Perhaps now she could sleep and if she was lucky there would be no dreams.

 

~~

 

Kaiden Alenko stood quietly outside of the med bay doors. He had come to ask Dr. Chakwas for stronger medications for the headaches caused by his implants but the soft sounds of voices on the other side of the door told him that Chakwas was not alone.

He could hear his Commander’s soft voice through the door. He listened closely. It seemed the old rumors were true-- the great Commander Shepard suffered nightmares.  He smiled to himself; it explained why she could be found napping in the strangest places. She was like a giant cat- she roamed the ship and was often found in odd areas completely passed out. He partially chalked it up to her biotics as well. Biotics used far more energy than most people realized and even he had to take the occasional nap, though he always made it a point to do so in one of the sleep pods offered for such occasions.

Shaking his head, he left the medbay.

He still wasn’t sure what he would say to the commander after how he had reacted earlier. He *knew* that he’d pushed himself past his limit and she’d made a good call, but a part of him had made him act ugly about it and he regretted his actions. From the amount of time the spent practicing biotics together he’d grown to like her. Considered her a friend. Others on the ship had begun to feel the same way- Alenko was the type to have his ear to the ground and often the commander would ask him how the crew was doing. He never told her that people were using the nickname less and less. Then again, maybe he didn’t have to.

He made his way to the men’s bunks and flopped onto his bed.

As his eyes drifted closed he thought over how he might apologise.

 

~~

 

Pashera awoke feeling as refreshed as was possible for the ‘morning’ hours. She sat up with a stretch and tapped her comm, “Joker, what’s our ETA for the Citadel?”

“ _Two hours out, Commander._ ”

“Ok, thank you.”

“ _No problem, Commander._ ”

She looked around and decided to go down to the hold and get a workout in. She changed to her usual workout gear and headed down to the cargo hold. She made a short side-stop to grab a dried grainbar from the kitchen area of the ship and made a mental reminder to do a wash load later. It was pleasing to be on a ship that didn’t only use the sanitation pods. Having a water purification system that allowed them to actually wash laundry was one thing she definitely had missed on other ships. Things just seemed cleaner with a good water rinse.

As she stepped into the elevator, she wondered how Tali washed. There was a sanitation room in the med bay that Tali could use but Pashera had never actually seen the quarian use it. Pashera wondered if it would be rude to ask. Stepping out of the elevator, she headed for the exercise corner.

She stopped short when she got to the punching bag.

It was in use.

Garrus was crouched slightly in little more than a pair of slacks and doing a flurry of strikes with quick precision.  Pashera blinked. She had never seen a male Turian with this little clothing; she took a minute to admire the way his pants fit over his hips.  Most of his back was covered in soft plating but underneath she could see muscles ripple under his slightly hide. She admired him as he moved.  When they had sparred in the past, he had neglected to shed his armour.

“Ugh, please tell me you aren’t eyeing *that*.” Wrex’s voice cut into her thoughts and she turned to see him wandering towards her.  

Smiling, she winked ans said, “Oh don’t worry, Wrex, I am more than happy to eye you as well.”

With that she walked away from the confused looking krogan. Her new goal to pull down the mat so that she could do some bodyweight workouts. Stretching slowly, she began running through a series of warm-up moves to help her muscles. She could feel her rib twinge and she made a mental note not to do any exercises that might stress the fracture even though Dr. Chakwas had made repairs to it. Her ribs were always slow to heal.

She transitioned from her warm-up into a simple pattern dance that focused mainly on strength with a secondary on flexibility and soon she was sweating and focused singularly on keeping the correct form as she pushed her body through the patterns.

As she cooled down on the mat she moved to holding positions and stretching.

She sat delicately trying to see how long she could hold a pose that had her balancing on one leg in a sitting position with her hands pressed together over her head when a shadow fell over the mat.  Careful not to off-balance herself, she brought her arms down to chest level and looked up.

Garrus stood over her. His head was tilted slightly as he watched.

“…yes, Garrus?” she asked. A wobble went up her leg when she started to lose her concentration.

“I was going to tell you that I was done with the beating bag if you needed it but now… I’m curious how you can get your leg to bend like that,” His head tilted as he looked her over.

Another wobble as she tried not to laugh and fall, “I believe it is partly due to the way that human females are built. I do not know as much about Turian anatomy, but the human female’s pelvis is made to separate slightly for the birthing process. We have a slightly different range of movement than men- you can notice if it you watch the difference in the way a man and a woman walk.” Slowly, she unfolded her leg and sat onto the ground before continuing, “I could be wrong though.” With that she rolled backwards into a bridge, curled until her chest touched the floor, and then straightened her legs while  allowing her feet to touch the floor.  She could feel a regrettable twinge in her rib but she knew she wasn’t pushing herself too far.

“I feel like you may be lying and actually made of a rubbery substance because that position shouldn’t be possible,” Garrus said with a tinge of awe.

Slowly she raised her legs and then pressed up into a handstand. Then tucked into a roll and stood up, “I suppose that is a possible explanation as any.” She smiled at him, “Did you need the matt or would you mind if I sterilize it and put it up.”

“Oh, no… I’m just going to go… feel not quite so *bendy* somewhere else.”

She chuckled and set to cleaning the mat and putting it up. Her bruises still hurt but her body felt solid and whole.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dhanyavaad or Dhan'yavāda** \- _Thank you (Pashera commonly prefers to use Dhanyavaad)_
> 
> Thank you for reading. ♥


	8. More Flies With Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar (Idiom):** _It is easier to get what you want by flattering people and being polite to them than by making demands._

 

The window display glittered with the light from nearby signs. Pashera stood looking through the store’s catalog of available armour and fabrics. Her eyes lingered over the perfect one and she quietly asked the clerk if it was possible to put in a special request order. After some talk and a considerable amount of her savings spent, she finished her order and left.

The soft imitation daylight filled the shopping area of the Citadel and the murmur of shoppers created a soothing atmosphere. Pashera felt accomplished- she had managed to pick up all the requisitioned items, a new gun, a ship-safe kettle, and some interesting smelling asari homeworld teas. She looked around and wondered what to do next since she had given the ‘okay’ on a 48hr leave for most of her crew while she waited for some info reports.

A familiar female voice cut through the crowd, “Commander Shepard?”

The journalist, Emily Wong, was approaching her, the reporter's small frame clad in a dark blue dress that ended just above her knees.

Pashera gave her a polite but forced smile, “Miss Wong, I wasn’t expecting you till tomorrow…”

Emily smiled, “I was out shopping and I saw you. Would you care to join me for a coffee, Commander?”

Apprehension at having coffee with a journalist filled her; despite the background checking she had done on Emily Wong. She knew Emily was an earnest journalist with a good heart and even better ear for a story, but a journalist always meant bad news. Pashera gave a polite incline of her head anyhow, “I do not have anything else planned.”

The journalist linked her arm with Pashera’s and led her to a small café that was nearby. there was a growing feeling of discomfort over the familiarity that Emily was showing but Pashera felt it was better at this point to not resist. It wasn't as if she needed her image corrupted any further with the media. Soon they were sitting in a corner seat and sipping their drinks. Since Pashera held a distinct dislike for coffee, she had ordered an interesting tea made on the hanar homeworld.

Emily sipped her coffee and leaned back, “I wanted to apologize, Commander. I’m afraid I may have said something less than sensitive last time we spoke. I did a little research and realized my mistake. I didn’t intend to cause distress.”

Pashera shifted and crossed her legs. She held her cup close against her chest and listened; she didn’t want to say anything that the journalist could use, so she settled for staring quietly. Her eyebrow went up slightly at the apology. There was a wonder in her mind on how much the Journalist had ‘researched’.

Emily looked nervous, “Uhm, word on the street is that you’ve been busy. Congratulations on becoming a Spectre.”

Pashera set her cup down on the table and leaned forward, “Miss Wong. I appreciate the polite conversation but our meeting was for tomorrow. I do not have the data we discussed with me. If you are looking for information on something else… I am afraid my work currently is classified and I cannot speak of it.”

Emily flushed and looked away, “It’s not that, Commander. I really just wanted to apologize. Until I met you, I only knew what had been in the news reports. When I did some of my own digging on the side… I found an interview …and… I realized that I had spoken in a really insensitive way. What I thought was a compliment was really probably more of an insult and I’m sorry.”

Pashera picked up her tea and leaned back. She took a sip; a spicy flavor with a touch of some sort of fruit reminiscent of the earth oranges she'd tried once. She looked down at the tea, it was a watery purple. Pashera made a mental note that she would have to see if she could get the name of it so she could have some sent to the Normandy.  

Emily sat fidgeting nervously as Pashera pieced together her response, “Miss Wong, forgive me for being blunt but it seems odd that you would feel the need to apologize even if your actions had been… insensitive.”

“I… Commander, I guess you could say I follow the ‘more flies with honey’ type of approach. I also admire you. I didn’t want our meeting to be on a sour note. I was actually hoping we could be friends.”

The familiar phrase had Pashera narrowing her eyes in distrust the second it fell from the reporters skillfully painted lips.

“Oh, dang it. Commander- I mean that I would like to *be* friends and not have it be part of my job. You are a strong admirable woman whom many look up to. As much as I would like to get an interview with you I would rather be friends,” Emily looked more and more flustered as she talked.

Pashera tilted her head in thought she brushed her hand over the scar on her face absently while thinking. After a few minutes her eyes focused on Emily, “Then let us start over.”

She put down her cup and stood while looking down at Emily expectantly.

Emily nearly spilled her drink in her haste to stand.

Pashera held out her hand, “My name is Pashera. It’s nice to meet you…?”

Emily grinned, “Emily. My name is Emily.”

They sat back down. Pashera crossed her legs and leaned back, “Have you heard of the new Hamlet play?”

Emily looked startled, “I--The one with the all elcor cast?”

Pashera nodded and sipped at her tea.

“Uhm, yes… Com—I mean Pashera, I don’t…”

Pashera tilted her head slightly then sighed, “If we are going to be friends then I would like to talk about *anything* that is not related to my work. I do not have a lot of chances to do that. Having what some people would consider a normal or boring conversation is rare for me.” She didn’t add that she was still wary of the journalist and that having ‘normal’ conversations would mean she could avoid topics the journalist might be able to use.

It seems Emily understood though because for the next half hour they chatted amicably about relatively normal things. Pashera admittedly enjoyed herself; it had been an interesting turn of events to make a possible friend out of someone who she had initially labeled as enemy.

 

~~

 

Garrus shook his head and made a tutting noise as he stared at his new commander. True- this was not the first time he had found her asleep someplace odd but this was a new one.  She was on top of the Mako tank. Beside her lay a small datapad and a purple cup and she was curled tightly against the large tank gun using one of her well-muscled arms as a pillow.

Wrex came to stand beside him.

“She crawled up there about an hour ago after getting back from the citadel. You’d think humans would find better places to sleep,” the krogan grumbled in good humor.

Garrus flared his mandibles in a grin- although he wouldn’t call his relationship with krogan friendly they had gotten along alright. More-so after the commander had taken down the krogan. Garrus had made the same mistake and been cocky. He’d challenged her as well- it hadn’t ended nearly as quick but he’d had three fractured ribs and a mild concussion for his mistake. He had the feeling that she’d been rougher since he’d refused to take off his armour.

He and the krogan had actually started to fight on the ship.  The commander had pushed her way in-between them and shouted so loudly it hurt just to remember it. Ice blue eyes had flashed and she’d threatened to space them both if they didn’t behave properly on the ship. Even though both he and Wrex towered over her, she was terrifying in a way that was indescribable. Garrus wouldn’t admit it but he was fairly sure she could and would space them both even if that mean blasting open the hull to do it. That incident was the one time he’d made her angry and he dearly hoped he never made that mistake ever again.

The commander turned over in her sleep and Garrus vaguely wondered if she would fall. In the past, he’d found her curled behind the ammo crates once and Engineer Adams claimed to have found her sprawled over some warm pipes in engineering- he’d made a reference to some sort of earth native animal and Garrus had trouble understanding what the man had meant. Translators only worked so well.

He sighed.

He had been intending to work on the Mako’s gun to improve its firepower after that last thresher maw battle.

Shaking his head, he wandered off- no way was he going to wake the commander.

 

~~

 

Pashera had finally finished meeting with Admiral Kohaku- he’d been upset by the news that everyone had been killed by a decoy beacon on a thresher maw nest.  She now sat in the café that Emily had introduced her to with a milky blue tea in front of her- it came highly recommended for relieving stress and headaches and was also from the hanar homeworld, Kahje.

There was a vain hope that tea would work; a painful headache was building from the stress of her earlier meetings. She sipped her tea quietly while she waited.  It was nearing the agreed upon time that she was to meet Emily at the café again to hand over the discs.

“Rough day?”

Emily slipped into the seat across from Pashera, the reporters dress that day was a swirl of scarlet and soft cream accents. Pashera envied her taste in clothing; she personally owned few off duty outfits and nearly all of them seemed to only be fit for exercising. Pashera rubbed her temples tiredly, “A little. I have never been a fan of delivering bad news. However,” she slid a decorative looking bag across the floor with her foot, “I hope this is positive news for you.”

Emily’s face brightened and she picked up the bag to glanced inside, “oooh, very good news. Those ARE what I think they are right?”

Pashera nodded, “I believe they have what you need.”  She took a sip of the tea; this one was creamy and reminded her of the more flowery soft earth teas with a touch of something similar to mint. She found that she really liked the hanar teas she had tried, and she had purchased a large mix pack for the Normandy. She wondered if this one was among the mix and if she needed to pick up any special ingredients.

“If you need to talk about it I can listen,” Emily held up her hands in a defensive gesture before Pashera could even level a look at her, “Off the record 100%.”

Pashera gave her a small smile and tried to think of what to say, “I… it is complicated. My… mission is like searching for a needle in a haystack- but I have no magnet to make the search quicker. Add on that now my position has more people asking me to do the things they can not.” She sighed and sipped at her tea, “I… I am just a little frustrated. There is something on the horizon and I can not seem to get people to listen.” She frowned in thought, “Emily, when I finish my investigation *do* you want an interview? I have the feeling that may be the only way that the truth gets heard… and something tells me that it is important to have the truth out there.”

Emily looked delighted, “If it doesn’t interfere with our friendship-- I would LOVE an interview. You mean exclusive right? You talk to me before you talk to anyone else?”

Pashera nodded. She felt herself smile at the girl’s enthusiasm but the smile was brief.

“Then yes!”

With a nod, Pashera finished off her tea, “I am sorry I can not stay longer today, but I am afraid I have to finish my errands before we leave.” She stood and looked down at Emily, “would it be possible to meet here next time we both have some time off?”

Emily stood, “Pashera, I meant what I said. I want us to be friends. Anytime you want to meet you just send me a message and I’ll be there.”

Pashera nodded, “Alright.” She pulled out a small band and pulled her hair into a fluffy ponytail, “Then I will see you at a later date, Emily.”

She walked away feeling slightly better; she wasn’t sure if it was the tea or the conversation but either way she felt better.

She arrived at the ship just as her special order shipment did and after some work she managed to get it loaded and squared away before any of her crew members saw.  For a time, she wandered the ship, checking to make sure that everything she had requisitioned had arrived- she had made it a point to special order some special Dextro specific items for her new crew members.

Eventually, she ended up in the cockpit and leaned against one of the empty chairs. Joker was out and the ship was quiet. She sighed and slid over the arm of the seat and curled up on the chair with her feet draped over the armrest. After all the errands and the addition of hauling some of the cargo herself, she was bone tired. Lifting so many boxes had been more draining than she remembered from her early days of service.

She fell asleep in the soft quiet of the cockpit and was awoken by Joker laughing. She cracked an eye open and he was leaning over the seat she had chosen to nap in. A big grin over his scruffily bearded face, “I’m sure there are more comfortable places to nap, Commander.”

Pashera sat up slowly, her back protested the strange position she had been crumpled into and one of her legs had gone numb, “True… but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Joker slowly shuffled over to his chair and sat. Pashera watched him move and wondered if his strange posture was from sitting all the time or if there was another culprit. Even with the beard he didn’t look much older than her. She sat blearily attempting to wake up and he quietly started going through some sort of check process for the ship. She saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eyes every now and then but she was too out of it to realize that it was because she was staring.

“Uh, something you need, Commander?”

She yawned and struggled to sit up more. As she shifted her leg started to tingle and she grimaced, “Although we work together, we have not had time to speak much. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Ah, I can see where this is going. You did a background check on me, didn’t you? Well, I’ll tell you the same thing I told the captain. You *want* me as your pilot. I’m not good. I’m not even great. I’m the *best* damn helmsman in the alliance fleet! Top of my class in flight school? I earned that. All those commendations in my file? I earned every single one. Those weren’t given to me as charity for my disease.” As he talked he gestured emphatically and Pashera’s eyebrows went up slightly at the mention of a disease.

“Apologies, but I actually have not had time to look over everyone’s files. Disease? Are you sick?”

Joker looked stricken, “You mean—you mean you didn’t know? Ah, crap. … okaaaay… I’ve got Vrolik’s syndrome. Brittle bone disease. My bones never developed properly. They’re basically hollow. Too much force and they’ll shatter. Even with crutches and my leg braces it’s hard to get around. One wrong step and CRACK! It’s very dramatic! But I’ve learned to manage my condition, commander. Put the Normandy in my hands and I’ll make her dance for you. Just don’t ask *me* to get up and dance, unless, you know, you like the sound of snapping shin bones.”

Pashera gave a soft derisive snort and leaned her head to the side, resting it on the headrest of the chair, “I know what Vrolik’s syndrome is. My brother had it. I do not think his was that advanced but… I do know what it is.”

“Commander, Vrolik’s syndrome is permanent. If he *had* it he * _ **still**_ * has it.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, “Not if he is dead.”

“… well shit. Now I feel like an ass.”

Pashera struggled out of her chair and stood, her leg finally wasn’t numb and this conversation had gotten awkward fast. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, “Do not. The long ears would not fit under your hat.”

His laughter followed her as she made her way down the ship.

 

~~

 

Joker sat in his chair staring at the familiar holographic panels.

He’d laughed at her joke but he’d still felt like an ass. Over the last few weeks he’d gotten used to the creepy Commander that would stand over his shoulder every few hours.  Eventually, he’d assumed it was because she didn’t trust in his abilities.

Sure, he’d heard rumors from the others that she made regular rounds of the ship but he’d convinced himself that she hated the poor cripple who piloted the ship.

He adjusted his cap and rubbed at his forehead.

She’d been almost downright *nice* earlier and it confused the hell out of him. He’d had that speech memorized since he’d passed flight school and she’d just… she’d listened with a sweet sleepy smile and surprised the hell out him with that answer. Bonus is that he had been a perfect jerk to her when she let something that seemed to have been very private slip.

Damn, he’d rather she had punched him or something rather than see that tiny flash of pain that had crossed her face as she’d said her brother was dead.

Not many on the ship knew much about the standoffish Commander Shepard except that she was a scary hand-to-hand fighter who napped in strange places. He’d seen the vid like everyone else as she’d taken down the krogan in a sparing match; it had mildly terrified him to think that the same person would stand over his chair regularly.  

He rubbed a hand over his beard. There was a growing need to apologize like an elephant on his chest but he’d built up the habit of making bad jokes or going on the offensive when he was around people. _Dammit, dammit, dammit._

He sighed as his fingers tapped at the holograph in front of him.

“Crap. …Joker you’re such an ass,” he grumbled to himself as he finished the pre-flight check and moved on to the next part of his routine.

 

~~

 

The crew had all finally returned from their leave time and the ship was headed out to check on reports of Geth sightings from a small colony called Feros. Pashera had called everyone to the briefing room and had a small stack of parcels sitting next to her. She sat trying to read a data pad while waiting for everyone to arrive; her fingers absently trailed the scar along her neck while she was lost in thought.

She heaved a sigh and glanced at the packages. She didn’t understand why she felt so nervous about what she was about to do, but she knew that it was necessary after their last mission. The speech that she had made to Alenko had reminded her that she *did* need her team to be 100% and it was her job to make sure that was possible. More-so since most of her ground team wasn't alliance.

Soon everyone had arrived and sat down. She stood and paced around a to relieve the growing anxiety, “Our destination is Feros- a small colony called Zhu’s Hope. There have been some reported sightings of what may possibly be geth- we are to go in and investigate.” She turned and grabbed a handful of packages then began to hand them out according to who they were labeled for, “I am unsure what conditions we will be facing. I need all of you in the best shape possible. These are not… required to be used, but I hope that they will assist in the coming mission.”  

The last two packages were held in her hands and she cleared her throat before continuing, “Liara, Tali, can you come here?”

Both of them approached her with skeptical looks and she felt as if her cheeks were on fire as she forced herself to not fidget, “Liara, I’m afraid I had to guess your size. I wasn’t sure if you were combat capable but I wanted to make sure you had something in case you ended up in another firefight.”  She handed over the package and turned to Tali, “It took some looking but I found someone who makes these… I uhm… as I said- it is not required to be used. I understand that they can be very personal, but I wanted to make sure you had the necessary protection during a battle.”

“I don’t understand, what is it?” Tali asked quizzically.

Pashera could hear the packages being opened by the others and she pressed the package into Tali’s hands hastily.

Her blush increased and she backed towards the doorway, “It… uh… I should go. EVERYONE IS DISMISSED!” She squeaked out the last words and bolted for the door. She had no idea what had made her so embarrassed over the fact that she had gotten them new armour. It was her job as the Commanding officer- she felt a the burn of embarrassment seemingly all the way to her toes as she walked quickly down the stairs to her cabin.  

It wasn’t long before there was a sudden knock on the door and Dr. Chakwas strode in before she could say anything. The doctor had two cups and a bottle of the same brandy that she had poured the night of the nightmare.  She looked around and set them down at the table.

Pashera stood near her desk like a startled deer.

Dr. Chakwas put her hands on her hips, “Well? Did you expect I wouldn’t hear about the great commander acting strangely?”

Pashera didn’t think it was possible but another wave of embarrassment hit her and she looked at the floor.

Dr. Chakwas set to pouring their drinks and sat down at the table. She fixed Pashera with a look and sipped quietly.

Pashera walked over and picked up the drink that had been poured for her and sat as well, “I… I do not know what just happened in there.” She shook her head, “It was strange. I was nervous of course but as soon as I started passing out the new armour I felt… freaked,” Pashera sighed and put her head on the table next to her drink- her hair flopped over her face and puddled around her on the table like a black pool of curled strings.

Dr. Chakwas started laughing.

Pashera raised her hand in a rude gesture but kept her head down. The table felt lovely and cool on her burning face.

“Pashera, dear, we all know you are awkward as hell when it comes to social interactions. As a Spectre in charge of your own ship things aren’t as cut and dry as they would be in a purely Alliance vessel. Social and military are mixed now- it was bound to happen eventually. You’ll be fine.”

Pashera sat up and took a sip of the brandy, “It still felt terrible.”

Chakwas raised an eyebrow, “Out of curiosity, why DID you get them all new armour?”

Pashera looked at her old armour that was laid over the bed, “I actually had to get new armour after being hit by that electric blast on the last mission. Most of the suits functions were fried. I was shopping for a new one, when I realized that I should probably re-fit the entire team. I had enough in savings to do it and I am not sure how common it will be to face machines like that but I wanted to make sure that we were ready.” She tapped the glass absently while she talked, “I had clearance as a Spectre to purchase a higher end type of suit that could withstand things like electrical blasts. They also come standard with automatic medi-gel applicators and stims in case someone is injured. Best shields on the market too…”  her rambling trailed off as she stared at her old suit lost in thought.

Chakwas cool hand touched her own and she was pulled back from her musings.  “Pashera… is it because you’re afraid of another Torfan?”

Pashera looked away from Chakwas dark blue eyes with a frown, “Maybe. Talking with Alenko the other day reminded me that it is my job to look after my crew; now more-so than ever.” She stood and began to pace, “We are facing things… unknown. There is a danger here that I know I may not be able to protect them from but I have to TRY.”

“Alright,” Chakwas stood and drained her glass, “Well, I’d better get back to the med-bay again. Adams seems to have eaten something strange on our trip to the citadel- he’s fine for the most part but I want to be there in case someone else decides to eat Dextro based food on a dare when they are known to have a heavy allergy.”

Pashera nodded more to herself as Chakwas left the room and her to her own thoughts.

 

~~

 

The squad stood in the comm room and watched the fleeing commander. She’d turned a delightful dark shade before giving a high pitched dismissal.

Liara had quickly followed- but she went to Doctor Chakwas rather than try to follow Pashera. She had remembered the night of the commander’s nightmare and how haunted her eyes had looked. She knew the doctor was friends with the commander and might be able to help. They spoke quickly and once Liara was done she returned to the comm room to see that everyone was admiring new armour.

She lifted her package from her seat and opened it gently. It was a beautiful white and pale yellow light armour set. She lifted it from the package and it unfolded. It was a lighter armour so that it wouldn’t hinder her biotics but the shields on it were impressive.

A delighted squeal drew her attention to where Tali had just opened her own package.

The suit Tali held was exquisite. The hood of it was a delicate silken material with gold swirls on a dark backing.  Tali ran out of the comm room with her armour. Liara guessed that she’d headed to the sterile room in the medical bay to change.

Liara looked over the group who was softly talking.

 _These must have cost a fortune_ , Liara thought to herself.

“Uhm…” everyone looked to her and she felt herself give a purple blush that must have stretched all the way to the tips of her fringe. She could see how it might have been intimidating to Pashera who seemed to be rather inept at being social. Liara could sympathize- she’d never been a ‘people person.’

“Maybe… we shouldn’t mention it to her. I mean, it seemed to really upset her…” Liara tried to press on, “I…mean…”

Alenko nodded, “Yeah, the commander did get really odd about these. Probably better to play it cool.”

Everyone nodded and resumed looking over their new items and Liara made a mental note to mention to Tali what they had all agreed on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you hubs for helping edit this while tired. Thank you lovely readers for actually reading this far. Flowers and hearts for all of you. 
> 
> Next chapter is Zhu's Hope but you may have to wait until December (I'm so sorry!) because I think that's all the editing I can do right now.


	9. Mind Over Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mind over matter (idiom):** _the power of the mind to control and influence the body and the physical world generally_

 

 

Bullets rained around Pashera as she hid behind a crumbling pillar that was degrading faster than she would have liked.

The ‘reports’ of geth had actually been an ignored distress call from a colony that had recently gone dark. Once again intel had dropped the ball and Pashera was gritting her teeth in frustration. She had shielded a colonist from a bullet, but the shot had managed to pierce her shields. Thankfully the suit had automatically applied medi-gel and her thigh was numb from the suit’s auto injection stims.  Never had she felt more appreciative of a purchase than she did at that moment.

Tali was nearby, working on the locked door of an elevator that would allow them to escort the colonist back to their group. Apparently, a small band of people had managed to survive and they were fighting back.

Pashera glanced around at the rest of her squad. Everyone seemed to be doing well- they each wore their new armour and Pashera smiled a little to herself. No one had said anything about her strange fit of embarrassment, but it eased her mind to know that their upgraded armours might just be the saving grace in this battle. She glanced around the corner and saw that more geth were ascending the stairs towards them.

She holstered her weapon and began concentrating on her biotics. The charge made her glow brightly in the cloudy gloom of the crumbling architecture.  “Tali? Progress report?” She bellowed.

There was a string of muttered curses from the quarian before she said, “Almost… GOT IT!”

“Atta girl. TEAM TWO- GO!”  Pashera sent a pulse down the stairs that made the structure shake and the geth crumpled as if she had used a giant mallet. Training with Alenko was really beginning to pay off.

She glanced at the elevator and the shield that Liara held over it at is descended.  Against her better judgment, she had agreed to allow the young Dr to accompany them on this mission- the asari was a skilled biotic and fast learner though and Pashera hoped that would be enough.

More geth began to ascend the stairs and Pashera’s eyes widened when she spotted a worrisome shape, “Rocket launcher! DROP HIM!”

Wrex stepped forward with Williams and they opened fire- it wasn’t soon enough. A rocket spiraled towards them and Pashera stood and raised a barrier around them.

WOOOOMF.

Pashera collapsed to her knees feeling like she had been smacked by Odin’s hammer as the rocket connected with her barrier. Sparks of pain swam before her eyes for a minute before Wrex hauled her to her feet, “Time to go, Shepard.” The elevator had come back up and they made a mad dash for it.

The doors closed and she looked around, “That went well. Everyone good?”

Wrex gave her a side-eye but stayed quiet.

Williams gave her a worried frown, “Uhm… Commander, You have a HOLE in your leg.”

Pashera gave a small smile and looked over her gun, “That I do, Chief. Mighty astute of you.” The rush from her biotics mixed with the stims in her system and she knew that later she was going to hurt, but for the moment she felt positively fabulous.

The elevator came to a stop and they stepped out. Alenko, Tali, Garrus, and Liara stood waiting for them with the rescued colonist.

“Team two- status?” She said as she walked forward. Her eyes scanned for injuries.

“Nothing to report, ma’am. Once we got on that elevator everything was daisies,” Alenko said with a shrug.

Pashera nodded- in her head she really hopped it wasn’t daisies; maybe cattails or cosmos but not daisies. She looked to the colonist who was standing nearby fidgeting, but before she could ask him anything he said, “We saw your ship. Fai Dan wants to speak with you immediately.”

Pashera frowned. He had said the same thing just before the geth had opened fire on them. She sighed and nodded, “I will be on my way in a minute.”

He turned and walked abruptly away towards a series of barricades where she could see other colonists. “Odd…” she muttered to herself before turning to her team, “Okay teams, we are going to do some adjusting while I talk to this Fai Dan. Wrex and Liara you are to stay here and fortify this position. Alenko and Garrus I am sure they have another exit point- I need you to find it and station yourselves there until I call you. Move out.”

Williams stood looking at her, “What about us ma’am?”

Pashera raised an eyebrow, “You and Tali are with me in case I need back-up.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Williams and Tali fell into step as she turned and started walking in the direction that the colonist had gone.  Snatches of strange conversations reached her ears and a smell she couldn’t place drifted into her nose. She frowned to herself, something felt off but she couldn’t place her finger on it. She stopped and looked around, “I need you two to stay alert. Something is not right here. It is like… the air is wrong.”

Tali nodded, “I don’t know about the air but something seems… off about these people.”

Williams nodded.

Pashera started walking again. Her eyes passing over everything as she moved- there was danger here and she needed to find it before it got someone killed. She spotted the colonist she had saved standing next to an older man with a buzz-cut and she headed for them in hopes that one of them was Fai Dan.

She stood before the man, “Fai Dan? I am Commander Shepard. We are here to assist.”

Fai Dan nodded and looked her over with his pinched face, “Oh… Commander. I’m glad they finally sent someone to help us.”

“My ship can evacuate your peop—“

“WATCH OUT! We’ve got geth in the tower!” A small woman ran past them yelling. Her steps carried her towards the secondary barricades that Pashera had asked Garrus and Alenko to find. Bullets filled the air and Fai Dan cried out to the colonists, “Protect the heart of the colony!”

Williams and Tali ran to assist at the barricade and Pashera raised a barrier to cover Fai Dan and the nearest building. She grit her teeth and pushed it as far as she could go- her instincts to protect the innocents of the colony were screaming and she blazed as she forced her biotics outwards. Her world was a shining blue mass as she watched her squad fight off the incoming geth. Alenko went down with a cry- blood splattered the ground from a wound on his side. Precious time seemed to move at a crawl before his suit finally formed a barrier over the broken section of his armour, then he got up slowly and returned to the fight. Pashera once again was grateful for getting her crew their new armours.

Within moments all the geth had fallen into a mechanical heap. Shot down before they could even step near the barricades. Pashera lowered her arms and shields slowly. She was breathing heavy and shaking; never had she pushed her biotics that hard or far.

“ALENKO, STATUS?!” She barked.

Alenko looked at his side and called back, “Just a scratch, Commander.”

A large geth dropship was pulling away from the tower. She watched it disappear into the clouds with worried eyes before turning to face Fai Dan, “The colony is safe for now but those geth are not done. We need to know what the geth are after and start evacuations.”

“Commander, this is our home. We are *not* leaving. We don’t know what they are after either. They came, they attacked us. That’s all we know,” Fai Dan replied mildly.

The small woman who had shouted earlier approached, “Their main base is at the ExoGeni headquarters. You should go there- you’re not wanted here.”

Fai dan frowned at the woman,“Arcelia! Sorry, Commander. Everyone’s on edge. She is right though; the headquarters seem to be their main base. They also seem to have a transmitter in the tunnels for coordinating attacks.” He opened his omni-tool, “Here are the locations and what details we have.”

Shepard rubbed at her temple, “I see.”

She turned and walked to a location that was away from the colonists and tapped her comm, “Everyone come to my location.”

She stood thinking while she waited for her team to gather with her. Williams and Tali stood nearby restlessly. Pashera rubbed over her lips with a gloved finger while thinking. Once everyone was gathered she looked around her group, “Garrus, Alenko, Tali, and Williams- You are now team two. Garrus, you are team two squad leader for this run,” She gave a nod to Garrus and then opened her omni-tool, “I am forwarding you the details but in short there are reports of geth in the nearby tunnels coordinating via a transmitter. Tali and Alenko, I need you two to work together to disable that transmitter. Be quick, be safe. Do not take unnecessary risks. Once you are finished I need you all to return to the colony and see if you can find whatever the geth are after,” She paused and looked around, “Something is…. off. Be cautious when looking. I have the feeling these colonists may be hiding something.” She looked to Team Two and nodded.

They nodded and headed off, Pashera watched them go for a minute before turning to her leftover team members, “We are going to be heading into the stomach of the beast.” She smirked and gestured at Wrex, “Not that beast though.”

“Funny, Shepard.” Wrex eyed her and Liara politely covered a smile.

Pashera allowed a small smile as she said, “I thought so. Anyhow, we are heading to ExoGeni headquarters. I know little about the company, but I do know that it seems to be the main geth base now. I want us to keep an eye out for survivors. Stay sharp.”

They trotted over to where her omni-tool said there was an elevator that would lead them to a skyway and that would lead them to the corporation headquarters. Once the elevator reached the top they found more colonists guarding a Mako. She knelt beside a wounded colonist who had taken a bullet in his abdomen and applied medi-gel to the wound in hopes that the man might live long enough for them to get him to a doctor. After checking over the others, the colonists sent her away with the keys to the last undamaged tank.

She and her squad began to cross the skyway in the mako, and the large dropship passed over them again. Pashera had never felt more exposed. The skyway was a large road that was crumbling and had no areas for them to really hide or maneuver during an attack. Sure it was beautiful- great Prothean tower ruins that pierced the cloudy purple sky- but it was terrifying. It was a tightrope so high in the air you couldn’t see the ground and they had to drive across it in a tank.

Pashera  gritted her teeth as she drove across. She didn’t stop for the large geth that were in her path- the mako hit them and sent them flying off the edge without mercy.

As they progressed her comm started picking up chatter, eventually she heard, _“We’ve got movement… some kind of vehicle. Not one of the geth.”_

“Hmmm…. Must be close enough to see us, Shepard,” Wrex said from behind her chair.

Pashera nodded. She wasn’t sure who it was on the comms and that made her uncertain about contacting them. They rolled forward and saw a small barricade near a tunnel. Scared human faces peeked out at them. Pashera sighed and stopped the mako. She stood and turned to her team members, “Assume hostile but do not fire unless fired upon.”

They slowly approached the barricade but no shots came.

“That’s close enough!” a short bald man in a lab uniform called out.

A woman stood next to him with a mind expression of annoyance and a similar outfit, “Relax, Jeong. They’re obviously not geth.”

“Get back, Juliana,” the man called Jeong looked like a panicked rat and he fixed Pashera with a glare, “Who are you? What do you want?!”

Pashera frowned coldly at him, “Commander Shepard. I am here to remove the geth problem.”

The woman called Juliana looked at him with a frown, “You see? You worry too much.”

 

“And *you* trust too easily, Juliana,” he snarled at her.

 

Pashera held up a hand to stop their bickering, “Listen, we have cleared the way back for the moment. You should take advantage and head to join the survivors of Zhu’s Hope.”

Juliana looked to Jeong with anger in her eyes, “I thought you said they were all dead.”

 

“I said they were *probably* all dead,” he held his hands up defensively.

 

Pashera was silent and rubbed her temple while they continued to bicker again after a few minutes she turned and began to walk away with Wrex and Liara following.

“W-WAIT!” Juliana ran up to them, “I…. My daughter, Lizbeth, she’s missing. She was working in the ExoGeni building when the attack came.”

Pashera looked down at the lady, “If she is alive… I will get her out.” Hope could be seen in Juliana’s eyes as she thanked Pashera and ran back to the group. Pashera shook her head and continued back to the Mako. Suddenly a fuzzing came over her comm and she stopped to listen. 

“ _CSSST—Commander? –CSSST- Can you read us? Damn it. I don’t think it’s –CSSSSSST- yet Alenko!_ ”

Pashera stopped as she heard team two on her comm and she tapped it and said, “Garrus, do you read me? I am receiving.”

“ _Oh –CSSSST-. Commander we’re heading back to –CSSSSST- ship. –CSSSSST- injured by rabid varren._ ”

Pashera frowned, “Garrus, can you repeat who was injured? Something is fritzing the signal.”

“ _-CSSSSSSST- Said Tali was injured by –CSSSST- VARREN ON YOUR SIX ALEN--CSSSSSSSSSST_ ”

Pashera waited for a minute with her head cocked to the side while chewing her lip. She was listening like her life depended on it and worry for her crew filled her.

“ _-CSSSSST- sorry commander, don’t worry –CSSSST- us. Once we get –CSSSST- to the ship we’ll be fine._ ”

As glad as she was that they were mostly okay, a cold stone weighed in her stomach- she was too far away to help them now and she hoped that Garrus could keep the crew in one piece. She pressed her comm again to radio Joker, “Joker, Got a team with wounded headed towards you. Have Chakwas meet them at the airlock and give me a status report once they arrive.”

“ _Got it, Commander. I’ll keep you in the loop. Normandy out._ ”

Pashera sighed and looked at her team, “It’s all on us, princesses.  Let’s get going.”

Wrex gave her a wry look as they all loaded into the Mako quietly. The second skyway section was similar to the first but there were more geth barricades for them to plow through and smoke rose from burning tanks.  As they drove Pashera could see that a huge geth ship had attached itself to the side of the building.

Eventually, they came to a small area where the tank could not continue and they cautiously got out. There were a few geth that attacked but the battle was over quickly.  Pashera looked around the area. A barrier curtain similar to the one where they had found Liara was blocking their path.

“Hey, Shepard.” Wrex was standing near a collapsed section of the building.

“Yes, Wrex?” She asked mildly.

He jumped.

As he plummeted downwards, Pashera’s heart leapt into her throat. It stayed there until she realized she could still just barely see the tip of his hump over the lip of what appeared to be some sort of crevice. She let out a breath in a hiss and stalked over to him.

“I swear to the spirits, Wrex, I will shoot you myself,” she muttered as she approached. She could hear his gravelly chuckle as he crouched watching for enemies near the end of the tunnel he had found.

Liara approached cautiously behind Pashera. Pashera sighed, jumped down, and then turned to Liara, “Liara, I can catch you if you would like.”

Liara shook her head and used her biotics to float down. She was biting her lip in concentration and Pashera watched with a tilted head.

“I have never seen it used like that,” Pashera said while staring.

Liara looked startled, “What?”

“Oh… biotics. I never considered using them like that.”

Liara gave her a quizzical look, “Asari children learn tricks like that in school. Don’t they teach human children how to use their biotics?”  
Pashera shrugged, “No. Biotics are not common enough for them to teach all children and it has only been around for maybe a generation. We are lucky our implants do not nearly kill us anymore.” She frowned, “And... I never went to school for my biotics. Alenko has been helping me learn, but I'm still... not great.” She turned and started down the tunnel towards Wrex.

Liara was silent in response.  Pashera didn’t mind, as she reached the spot where Wrex was crouched and she peeked out of the area slowly.  A dead Varren lay nearby and she narrowed her eyes. No shot had been heard from Wrex and she didn’t see any geth. Something had killed the giant fish dog and it had to be close. She wasn't going to risk another Eden Prime situation, so she raised a barrier over herself and stepped out cautiously.

POW.

A shot glanced off her shields and she raised her gun towards to direction the shot had come from.

“DAMN IT!”A female voice cried out.

A scared looking young woman stood shaking near a small gap in the wall. Pashera tilted her head and stared at the woman.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I thought you were geth or another varren,” the woman chattered nervously while lowering her weapon.

The dry annoyance was all Pashera’s face showed as she lowered her shield slowly. She stepped forward, “It would have been a nice shot. If we were enemies.”

The girl looked about ready to cry, “I’m really sorry. I’m not used to using a gun. I… can’t get out. That stupid barrier blocks the way. I- I’ve been waiting for the geth to maybe leave but the varren keep coming.”

Pashera frowned, “Do you know a Juliana?”

The girl looked up surprised, “Yes. She’s my mother. Oh god… is she ok?”

Pashera gave a nod, “She is with some others from the colony. She was safe last time I saw her.”

“Oh thank god. I thought I was the only one left.”

“Lizbeth, do you know what the geth are after?”

The girl looked surprised and then looked away from Pashera, “I…. I think they’re here for the Thorian.”

Liara looked interested, “What is a Thorian?”

Lizbeth rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, “It’s some indigenous life form. ExoGeni was studying it. There might be more information inside the headquarters.”

Pashera paced in thought. She needed more information but this girl was in danger. It was too dangerous to allow her to come with and it was definitely too dangerous to send her out on her own. She stopped and looked at Liara, “Liara…”

“Uhm… Yes, Commander?”

“Is it possible for you lift someone with your biotics in a similar fashion to what you did earlier?”

“Of course.”

“Then I am going to send you and Lizbeth back to the Mako to wait for Wrex and I. Wrex, can you stay here and guard this area till I get back?”

He gave a brisk nod and crouched down, his eyes scanning the area.

Pashera turned and walked briskly to the area where they had jumped down and looked up to the lip of the collapse.

“Alright, Liara, I can act as a stepping stool for you, but it is up to you to protect yourself and Lizbeth. Can you do this for me?”

“I… yes.”

Pashera nodded and leaned her back against the wall. She braced herself as if she were sitting in an invisible chair and then crossed her arms in front of her and readied herself for Liara’s weight. Liara was lighter than she expected, stepping gingerly onto her knees and then hopping up with some biotic assistance. Pashera hoped there were no geth between them and the Mako.

“It’s all clear commander,” Liara said softly over the edge.

Pashera looked to Lizbeth, “You can have Liara lift you or you can climb up. I leave the choice to you.”

Lizbeth looked apprehensive, “I-I would rather climb.”

Pashera nodded and braced herself. Lizbeth was less gentle about her climb. She managed to plant her foot firmly onto Pashera’s leg wound and Pashera grit her teeth as a spike of agony nearly made her collapse. Thankfully, it was over quickly and both girls were kneeling near the edge looking down.

“Oh, here,”  Lizbeth unclipped a small badge off her uniform and handing it down, “Take my ID. This should get you past any locked doors. Good luck.”

Pashera nodded and then gave Liara a wink, “Liara, once you're inside—lock it like you are in a bad neighborhood.”

“Uh… I… okay, Commander.”

Pashera listened to the two girls as they moved away and gave a silent prayer for their safety.

Pashera limped back to Wrex and tapped her comm, “Joker, I thought I asked for an updated report on Team Two—Have they arrived yet? … Joker?” she sighed, “I guess the geth ship is blocking the comms.”

Pashera stepped out to stand beside Wrex, two new varren were dead nearby and she smiled, “Looks like it is me and you for this last bit. Ready to have fun?”

Wrex stood with a grunt, “You’ll owe me a drink after this but… yeah.”

They set off towards the nearest doorway.

 

~~

 

Pashera leaned against Wrex, a small trickle of blood dripped from near her temple and her right eye was almost swollen shut. There was a feeling like she may have also broken her cheekbone. She wasn’t sure. She was sure though that she had definitely sprained an ankle. Wrex held her up as they walked and he held his hand over a nasty looking gut wound in his side. Pashera had faith he would be fine. Between the suit and the krogan ability to regenerate she was fairly sure his wound wasn’t life threatening.

They had found more fun than intended.

First they had run across a krogan mercenary. He had put up more of a fight than they expected- he had managed to slash Wrex with a rather evil looking omni-blade before they had taken him down. Wrex had sat down after that fight while Shepard accessed data via a VI terminal.

She had learned that the Thorian was referred to as Species 37 and it was located underneath Zhu’s Hope- along with a great deal of information about the creature.  It was troubling that the Thorian could control other organisms via some sort of spore—and that all of Zhu’s Hope was being used as a testing ground. Pashera had been livid, but it explained some of the strange behavior she had witnessed.

After that they had moved on to find that the geth ship had attached itself to the building to power the shields. The only logical conclusion was of course to blow up the claws that hooked it in place.

This was perhaps not actually the most logical conclusion, but it had been funny so they did it anyhow.

 

When the roof collapsed on them they found it slightly less amusing.

 

It took them some time before they were clear of the rubble and their comms started working again.

Pashera’s comm had crackled to life as she pushed free of the rubble, “ _—mander. I repeat, Normandy to Team One. Are you reading? Anyone there? Normandy to Commander  Shepard. Come on Commander, talk to me!_ ”

Pashera coughed and tapped her comm, “Joker? Report.”

“ _We’re in lockdown here, Commander. Something happened to the colonists. They’re banging on the hull, trying to claw their way inside the ship. They’re freaking out! Hell, I’m freaking out._ ”

“Joker, they can not do any real damage. They are being controlled by something called a Thorian- I would rather we did not hurt them. We are on our way back to assist- just hold your position. ...Did Team Two reach the Normandy?”

“ _Uh… yeah. Yeah, they got here ok. Uhm. Okay. We… we’ll just wait right here for you, Commander._ ”

Pashera noticed that Wrex was leaning on her now and his steps had slowed. He grumbled, “I’m going to need to sit down again soon, Shepard.”

She hefted his arm over her shoulder and braced him as she started walking again. Her ankle twinged painfully but they slowly advanced towards where the Mako should be, “Oh, do not be a big baby, Wrex.” She panted with the strain of holding him up, “I know a princess like you is all delicate--- ooof.”  Wrex collapsed and his full weight nearly pulled her over.  She held tight and with some effort she slowly pulled him over her back and began carrying him the rest of the way to the tank. Her leg felt like fire as she carried him and her vision began to get blurry. Despite her physical prowess, carrying a 300 pound krogan was no easy task.

Liara must have seen them because she dashed from the tank and swiftly lifted the krogan off Pashera with biotics. Pashera was grateful in a way she couldn’t describe and with some effort managed to crawl into the tank after them. Wrex was laid on the floor and Pashera sat tiredly nearby, “Liara can you use that med-kit  I saw behind the driver’s seat to patch up Wrex? His suit should have done something by now but there is a possibility that the blade shorted something or was poisoned. Run a… run an omni-tool scan.”

Her head was swimming and her focus was slipping but she knew she would need to get them across the skyway before more geth could land. With a soft hiss of breath she leaned sideways slightly and started trying to find the pocket with emergency stims to get her on her feet again. Her arm didn’t seem to want to move normally, “Uhm… Miss Lizbeth? I... I can not seem to reach my pack, could you assist me?”

Lizbeth approached her cautiously and Pashera tapped at her thigh with a finger, “I need to get into the third pack from the bottom. Two of the orange packets please.”

Gentle hands brushed against the armour in search of the pocket and after a minute the two orange packets were presented before her blurring vision.

“Thank you. One is for Wrex. …Can you see the small part on the arm of his armour that – yes that’s the one, “ Lizbeth pointed to a small patch on Wrex’s armour and Pashera continued, “Yes, it actually can be lifted and the pack can be inserted so that the stims can be injected via the suit.”  

She watched as Lizbeth gently placed the packet into the distribution center of Wrex’s suit. Once she was done she turned to look at Pashera, “Miss… Commander, what is this?”

Pashera placed the packet between her teeth and bit. It felt like she had just attempted to swallow a jar of live sour bees.  She sat up with a hiss of pain and leaned her head back to swallow. Her vision danced with specks of light and she spit the packet out before answering, “The packet… is a special battle stim. It was developed –nnnugh- during the -uuf- first contact war.” Her veins felt like they were on fire and she was having trouble staying conscious, “M-made for wounded…-uuugh-  I-I am going to pass out in a minute. –uuf- do… do not worry.”

Her world was aflame as the nanites and drugs rushed through her body and she felt herself fade into a white haze.

She came to as if someone had punched her. Her chest was a mass of faraway pain and when she first opened her eyes it seemed as if there were faint vapor trails. Her body had collapsed sideways when she passed out and she now carefully sat back up.

Her eyes flicked with an alert focus and she stood. Lizbeth and Liara were watching her with apprehensive faces. Carefully, she made her way over to the driver’s seat of the Mako and started it up.

“Liara how are his vitals?” She asked while pulling the Mako forward and turning it to face the skyway.

“They seem to be… improving. I-I’m sorry, Commander. I don’t know much about krogan physiology.”

“I do.” Wrex’s low grumble made Pashera smile while she drove. “What the hell did you give me, Shepard?”

“Drop Kick.”

“Oh. That would explain it,” Wrex said grumpily while rubbing at his chest.

“I… I don’t understand. What’s Drop Kick?” Lizbeth’s voice piped in.

Pashera concentrated on driving for a minute before answering, “As I was starting to say earlier—it is a battle stim made only for badly wounded soldiers. In the simplest of terms… It allows a soldier to turn off pain and mental limits for a short time.  …Actually, it is one of the more dangerous stims in existence. Soldiers must pass a special training course and it is not exactly easy to get ahold of.”

“Why did it make you pass out though?”

Pashera slowly maneuvered the Mako around a burning tank, “It is common for it to temporarily stop the heart of a human as it kicks in. Wrex would not have had an issue since he has redundant organs.”

Silence answered her statement.  No one knew what to say to that. She glanced over her shoulder, “Wrex, are you—“

The Mako’s comms fuzzed to life, “ _—anybody? Is there anyone picking this up?_ ” A female voice pleaded.

“ _Get away from that radio,_ ” a male’s voice snarled.

Pashera tilted her head. That had sounded like Jeong and Juliana. She floored the pedal to the tank and it roared forwards. If they were in trouble then he needed to get there fast.

“I…I think that was my mom,” Lizbeth said worriedly from the back.

Pashera nodded, “I will get us to their last known location as quickly as possible.”

“ _–CSSSSK—is Juliana Baynham of Feros colony. Please help us –CSSSSK—_ “

Pashera blazed towards the area where she had met the small group of survivors. The stims made her feel as if emotions were a faraway part of her but a worry still nagged in her mind like a gnat. The mako skid to a stop near the barricade, and before Pashera could even leave her seat Lizbeth had popped the hatch and leapt out.

Pashera looked to Liara and Wrex, “Stay. Put.”

She turned and left the Mako.Her gun held at the ready and her steps sure, she approached the colonists. Her eyes scanned slowly as she looked to try and find what had caused the distress call. Her eyes narrowed as no enemies came to sight.

Pashera knelt against the barricade where Lizbeth had crouched, and raised voices reached her ears, “You can’t do this, Jeong!”

Edging forward, Pashera shifted until she could see around the edge of the barricade. Scientists stood nervously away from the two arguing figures of Jeong and Juliana.

Jeong looked more than ever like a panicked rat as he backed away from Juliana. “Everyone shut up! Let me think,” the man snarled and his hands fluttered to push his glasses up his nose.

“You won’t get away with this,” Juliana said as she advanced towards him. A guard grabbed her from behind and Lizbeth took offence. The young woman darted from her hiding place and ran forward angrily, “GET AWAY FROM HER you son of a bitch!”

Jeong caught site of Pashera who had tried to stop Lizbeth, “Damn it! Come--come out where I can see you!”

Pashera stood, her pistol was lowered but her hand clenched around it tightly as she walked forward.

“Hah, Shepard. Damn it! I knew it was too much to hope the geth would kill you,” Jeong snarled, “I found some interesting facts about you in the ExoGeni database. I know what you did on Torfan. There’s no reason for this to get bloody.”

Pashera’s eyes narrowed. Even in her emotionally numb state she could feel a rising tide of anger, but her normal control had slipped away with the physical pain.  Inching forward, she spoke in a low dangerous tone, “Hoped the geth would kill me? Interesting… Just exactly *what* would make you think this will get bloody, _Bēvakūfa vyakti_?”

Jeong looked nervous. Tiny eyes darting to those who stood nearby as if leading for someone to back him up. When no one stepped forward he puffed himself up and said, “Communications are back up. We’ve been given orders to purge this place. There’s something here far more valuable than a few colonists who nobody’s going to miss.”

Pashera frowned as she clutched her gun, “Then I guess there is a reason for this to get bloody after all. May your gods have mercy. _Khōja nīravatā_  on the star road.”

CRACK.

Her arm had risen almost of its own accord, and she had pulled the trigger without hesitation. His body fell back to lay on the cold ruins. A growing pool of red crept along the stone floor. She looked down at the body in a dispassionate state.  A distant part of her was rage and it felt justified- another part of her was shocked at her own actions and mourned the loss of life.

“Oh-Oh my god,” Juliana’s hands covered her mouth as she stood eyeing the body.

Pashera looked to the nearby security guards and they raised their hands in surrender and backed away. She nodded and looked around. Silence and scared faces were all she received. Turning on her heel, she walked back to the Mako.

As she got back into the tank she eyed Wrex to see if he was improving. The bleeding had been stopped with a large medi-gel pad and the suit had finally activated a shield over the broken section. Once she was sure he was doing better she sat down heavily in the driver’s seat and started the Mako.

“Liara, I do not wish to harm anymore colonists. I know you studied Protheans, but can you put your scientific mind to finding an idea on how to disable the colonists without killing them?”

Liara sat in the seat next to her, “Well…. I’ve been giving it some thought since Joker’s message about them attacking the ship,” She paused and pulled out a canister of grenades, “I’m not really great at stuff like this, but after looking up how, I was able to alter a few grenades to release a nerve agent. It might hurt them a little bit but it won’t kill them. I… I *think* I did it right…”

Pashera took the grenades and opened her omni-tool. A quick scan revealed that they had been altered, and theoretically they should only paralyze or knock out the colonists. She gave a nod, “Good work.” She pulled the mako away and they quietly crossed the second skybridge.

~~

Joker sat tensely in his seat.

Pounding on the airlock door was making him anxious as he turned his attention back to the live feeds from the suits of Commander Shepard, Liara, and Wrex.  He’d started watching the monitors on missions after his last talk with the Commander and he almost wished he hadn’t.

The feeds had blacked out a couple times when the comm lines were blocked and he’d had to fight down panic. Hell, he’d had to fight down panic when they had come back on and all he’s seen was blood and rubble on the Commander’s screen. There had been long seconds before she had begun to move again and she wasn’t responding to his hails. The connection had flickered wildly and he’d almost broken fingers gripping the armrest to his chair.  This was the closest he’d had to being in the field and he wasn’t sure how people handled that sort of stress.

Now he watched the vitals of the ground crew flash, and it was not helping him relax. The Commander’s vitals were haywire. Warning markers were all over the screen, and she was just powering through. Wrex showed signs of a nasty internal wound and although he was healing fast his second heart was badly damaged.  

He glanced towards the airlock and was thankful the audio was piped only to his private comm so that the crew members guarding the door couldn’t hear.

~~

Pashera stood over what was left of the strange corpse. It had been humanoid like a husk but seemed to be made of plant material, and when shot several times it had exploded into a green cloud that she was a little apprehensive to breath. She had ordered everyone to put on their helmets as soon as she saw the cloud. The knowledge of how the Thorian controlled it’s thralls was not forgotten and she didn’t wish to risk a crew member getting infected.

Wrex was following slowly behind with Liara. Pashera had given them strict orders not to fire on the colonists and to maintain shields. She slipped into the area where the elevator was and spotted some colonists hiding behind small metal barricades. She slowly used her biotics  to lift a grenade and toss it at them- she hoped it would work but this would be the defining moment.

BOOMF.

The grenade went off in a hazy cloud and the colonists collapsed. Carefully she crept forward. Upon reaching a colonist she checked for a pulse; her fingers felt the steady beat of a strong heart and she breathed a sigh of relief.  Turning, she gestured for the others to follow her as she crept to the elevator. She crouched behind some rubble while waiting for the elevator, hoping there wasn’t going to be anything in it when it arrived.

The doors opened.

Pashera lowered her weapon as the sight of an empty elevator greeted her eyes. She put her foot into the doorway to keep the elevator from closing as she turned to the others, “I am to go down first. –No, no do not interrupt me, Liara—I am going down first to secure the lower level.” Liara looked like she wanted to argue and Wrex had a look similar to an insolent child who was just denied the candy of shooting someone in the face but Pashera looked at them sternly and stepped into the elevator.  The doors closed with a whisper and she was left alone.

Pulling a small mirror from one of her pockets, she crouched against the wall of the elevator. As the doors opened she edged the small mirror out enough to check to see if her way was clear. The hall was empty, so she quickly put away the mirror and stepped out.  She dashed to a nearby pillar- the entrance to the colony lay nearby and she edged around the pillar.

The strange plant creatures were waiting.

BLAP. BLAP. BLAP. BLAP.

She took aim and fired on the advancing creatures and they exploded into a fine mist.

When they were dealt with she checked over her body. One of the downsides to using Drop Kick was that she could easily be wounded or overstress her body and she would not know.  Her omni-tool showed warnings about her physical state and she frowned. Her heart was elevated beyond a normal rate and there was a warning symbol for her ankle and head injuries.  with a sigh, she lowered the omni-tool; there was no way for her to do anything about her body currently and she needed to pacify the colonists before they hurt someone. At least there were no new injuries.

She glanced around the corner towards the colony and a spray of bullets greeted the concrete near her face.

She jerked back with a hiss. A new trickle of blood dripped down where a bullet had grazed her cheek. Deftly, she lifted a modified grenade and tossed it towards where she estimated the colonists being.

BOMF.

Soft thuds as the colonists collapsed to the ground could be heard and Pashera peeked around the wall again. This time, no spray of bullets. Pashera crept slowly into the colony like a stray cat slinking in the dark. A soft sunset cast the colony in a gloomy purple glow and Pashera hopped that the lowering visibility would help. She tapped her aim assist headset and glanced around the colony.  Small heat signatures told her that there were only a couple colonists left for her to neutralize.

She judged the estimated distance and repeated her tactic of floating a grenade over and dropping it. She hopped it worked and she crept forward.

It had.

The last few colonists lay on the ground unmoving. Pashera glanced around and a control terminal caught her eye. It seemed the colonists had been guarding it. Vaguely she recalled that when she had been passing through someone had been hunched over it as if watching something.

She approached the console and over it. They were crane controls.

Liara and Wrex rounded the corner as Pashera punched the controls to lift whatever the crane had been last used on. A large unit from a nearby crashed ship was lifted to reveal stairs that lead downwards.

Pashera looked to her team, “Wrex, can you guard the entrance. If the colonists wake,” She passed over the few remaining gas grenades, “Do NOT kill them. Use these on them. However, if those weird creepers come…. Well, have fun.”

She looked to Liara, “Liara… I do not know what we are going to find down there. Would you like to stay with Wrex or possibly meet a new species?”

Liara gave her a slight smile, “Well, it’s not Prothean but I wouldn’t mind meeting a new species, Commander.”

Pashera nodded and headed for the stairs. A sound stopped her and she turned with her gun raised. Fai Dan limped slowly towards her; pain wracked his features and he moved in a jerky, erratic fashion, “I-I tried to fight it. –nnugh- but it gets in your head. You-you can’t imagine –uunf- the pain.” He stopped walking. His breathing was ragged and tears streamed down his contorted face as he continued, “I… I was supposed to be a leader. –uuuf- These people *trusted* me.”

His hands grabbed the gun from his hip and Pashera narrowed her eyes. A soft blue biotic shield was raised as Liara stood beside her.

“It wants me to stop you…” He stopped with a gasp, “but I… I won’t. I WON’T.”

Pashera couldn’t stop him as he turned his gun on himself. The crack from the shot seemed to echo in the growing gloom. Liara stood stunned and her shield dropped away.

Pashera knelt beside the body, “ _Maa kṣētra kā_ , though this one was not born here-- it was his home. He is your child now, welcome the spirit’s vessel and give peace. Great wind… carry his soul to a gentler time.”

She closed the eyes on his cooling body and crossed his arms over his chest.

“That was… that was beautiful. I’ve never heard a prayer like that before,” Liara said quietly.

Pashera stood and frowned down at the body, “And my heart will always hope you never have to hear it again.” She turned and brushed past the stunned asari to descend the stairs into the dark. Liara’s soft footsteps echoed faintly behind her.

~~

Not for the first time, Pashera was grateful that her helmet had night vision. Liara stumbled against her in the dark stairway. Hands grabbing to cling at Pashera’s arm- there was a definite wonder why none of her team had flashlights. She gave an annoyed huff and steadied the asari- navigating her around a pile of debri on one of the stairs.

They had been descending for a while, alert for any little sound that might be more plant creatures when a soft light began to break through the gloom. A cavern lay ahead where the lights glowed a soft yellow.  Liara’s breath of relief was cut short as they entered the cavern.

“That is… disturbing.” Liara spoke softly as they both stood staring up at a grotesque plant formation. Large tendrils hung from what appeared to be a head and bulbous formations dotted it’s large form. It hung above them- a hulking mass of orange and green.   

Pashera could not agree more with Liara’s statement.

“I am now wishing I carried a larger gun,” She mused softly before edging closer. She was weary but she also wanted to see if she could talk to the creature. As she approached it moved and liquid dripped down the tendrils, Pashera stopped when the creature began to seemingly puke—a body slithered from the slime.

The body was a green asari and she stood slowly, “ **Invaders! Your every step is a transgression. A thousand feelers appraise you as meat, good only to dig or compose. I speak for the Old Growth, as I did for Saren. You are within and before the Thorian. It commands that you be in awe."** The asari’s voice was angry and distant and her eyes didn’t seem to focus as she spoke.

Pashera could feel a thrum of pain from her leg. The stims were beginning to wear off- she would need to finish this quickly.  She frowned as she asked, “Saren? Why was Saren here?”

The asari seemed to try to focus on Pashera but her eyes remained distant as she spoke, “ **Saren sought knowledge of those who are gone. The Old Growth listened to flesh for the first time in the Long Cycle. Trades were made.** ” Anger filled the asari’s face and she continued, “ **Then cold ones began killing the flesh that would tend to the next cycle. Flesh fairly given!** ”

Pashera looked to the Thorian and thought for a moment, “I have no intention of hurting the colonists further but they were not yours to take. However, I—“

The asari interrupted her, “ **The Old Growth sees the air you push as lies! It will listen no more!** ”

With that she attacked. Pashera had not even drawn her gun when Liara launched the strange green asari off the ledge with a well-timed biotic throw.  Pashera was grateful, she could feel her body becoming sluggish and she leaned back against a nearby pillar.

Liara stood next to her and erected a shield; more plant creatures were stalking towards them and Pashera had to fight off the blur in her eyes. She looked to Liara, “Suggestions on our situation, Dr. T’soni?” The smile that played at her lips was hidden behind the glass of her helmet. Liara had so much potential as a warrior. The brilliant sharp mind was impressive and when she was older she would probably have many followers.

Liara blinked, “I…. I… we kill these * _things_ * and then plant explosives at each of those tendrils that it is using to suspend itself. I don’t feel right killing what could be the last of its kind but… it’s us or it and I choose us.”

Pashera struggled to stand straight and hide the pain, “That is an admirable suggestion. Can you toss some more of these plant 'things' over the edge?”

“Of course, Shepard,” Liara’s shield expanded outwards and the plant creatures were pushed back- most of them went over the edge and fell. Screeching wails fading into the darkness below. Pashera raised her pistol and swiftly dealt with the ones that had not been graced with falling to their death.  

Pashera looked around and frowned, “We will need to split up.” She dug into her canister of normal grenades and handed some over, “I will take the upper levels if you can handle the ones on the far side. I will link these to my omni-tool so they will not blow until I send the signal.”

Liara gave a nod and was off quickly. Pashera started to limp towards some nearby stairs when a noise stopped her in her tracks. The Thorian was puking another green asari.

“ _Rundi ka bacha_ ,” Pashera snarled as she raised her gun.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The asari fell to the ground and Pashera tapped her comm, “Liara, that *thing* just spat out another _Pēṛa kutiyā_. Watch your back.”

“A- affirmative, Commander.”

Pashera turned and limped as fast as she could up the stairs. She stuck a grenade next to one of the giant pulsing tentacles and continued on- her teeth clenched as the pain increased.

Five more grenades planted she stood shaking at the top of the stairs. Liara stood nearby- the path had gone in a large circle. After linking up the grenades, Pashera looked at Liara, “Ready?”

Liara nodded.

Pashera pressed the button and a resounding explosion rocked the old ruins. The Thorian gave a strange sort of scream. A windy sort of guttural howl as it began to slide. The darkness below welcomed it as the Thorian fell to its death.

With a sigh Pashera leaned against the nearby wall. A squelching sound pulled her attention to  a large pod on the wall as it broke open- a dark purple asari with a green tinge tumbled out. Pashera struggled to raise her gun and she was unsure whether to shoot or not. With the Thorian supposedly dead- it should no longer be controlling these strange asari women.

The asari sat up and looked at her hands in apparent awe, “I’m free. I’m free!” Her eyes then turned to Pashera and widened, “Don’t shoot. I will not harm you.”

Pashera lowered her shaking weapon and out of the corner of her eye she could see Liara do the same. “Name?” She asked tiredly.

“My name is Shiala. I serve—I served Matriarch Benezia,” the asari stood slowly.

Pashera tried to focus through the haze of pain that was rapidly descending, “Talk… fast.”

Shiala looked at her with a worried frown but complied, “I-I was with Matriarch Benezia when she allied herself with Saren. Benezia foresaw the influence Saren would have. She joined him to guide him down a gentler path. But Saren is compelling. Benezia lost her way. Benezia underestimated Saren. As I did. We came to believe in his cause and his goals. The strength of his influence is troubling.”

“Benezia sought to turn the river and was swept away,” Liara mused quietly from behind Pashera.

“Saren has a vessel. An enormous warship unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He calls it Sovereign. It can dominate the minds of his followers. I… I was sacrificed to secure an alliance between Saren and the Thorian,” Shiala looked worried, “He knows you follow him, Commander Shepard. He attacked the Thorian so you could not gain the Cipher.”

Pashera looked at her and blinked blankly, “Cipher?”

Shiala nodded, “You came in contact with the beacon, yes? But it is confusing- unclear. To truly comprehend them, you must think like a Prothean. You must understand their culture, their history, their very existence. The Cipher is the very existence of being a Prothean- and the Thorian had the knowledge from when he absorbed the bodies of dead Protheans.”

“The Thorian had been… ancient,” Regret tinged Liara’s voice. The loss of possible Prothean knowledge seemed to weigh heavy on the asari. She seemed to easily overlook the fact that the knowledge was generally inaccessible and came at a heavy price.

Pashera could feel herself slipping and she adjusted her stance against the wall, “Then this Cipher is lost…”

Shiala shook her head, “No. I have the Cipher. I can transfer the knowledge from my mind to yours, as I did with Saren.”

Pashera could feel the collapse creeping up on her as the last of the Drop Kick faded from her system. She looked to Shiala, “Then… do it.”

Shiala approached her and quickly grabbed her arms and held her up. Pashera gasped in pain. Shiala looked into her eyes, “Try to relax, Commander. Slow, deep breaths. Let go of your physical shell. Reach out to grasp the threads that bind us, one to another. Every action sends ripples across the galaxy. Every idea must touch another mind to live. Each emotion must mark another’s spirit. We are all connected. Every living being united in a single, glorious existence. Open yourself to the universe, Commander.” Her eyes became black, “ _ **Embrace eternity!**_ ”

Pashera was thrown into the visions from Eden Prime. Flashes of death. Feelings of fear. The view of synthetic and flesh melded into one. Planets darkening as life was wiped away. It felt as confusing as the first time and her mind scrambled for answers. Then a single image of a large ship focused in her mind and she knew the ‘face’ of her enemies- the Reapers

Gently, Shiala released Pashera and stepped back, “I have given you the Cipher, just as it was given to Saren. The ancestral memories of the Protheans are a part of you now. It will take time for your mind to process this information.”

Pashera slid down against the wall as her body slowly collapsed and began to refuse to function.

“Commander?!” Liara knelt next to her.

Pashera looked up and gently touched to worried asari’s shoulder, “I’m… fine. Stims are wearing off… not…. going to be able to get up for a while,” She looked to Shiala, “Now… you are not under the control of Saren or the Thorian… what… plans?”

Shiala knelt next to her, “With your blessing, I would like to stay here. The colonists have suffered greatly and I played a role in their suffering. I wish to make amends.”

Pashera could feel herself fading, “Then you have it. I… am sure… they-they would welcome your help.”

The world faded to black.

~~

Joker, Garrus, and Williams were all watching the feed from the Commander’s helmet by the time she’d  blown the Thorian.

They had cheered.

Joker had halfheartedly joined them as his eyes went to her vitals at the edge of the screen. The warning signs indicated fractures and breaks in her leg and the warning signs were blinking. The sound was still only through his comm and he was the only one who could hear the pained short breaths she was taking.

Another Asari clone approached the captain and he watched the commander raise a shaking hand- her gun clutched tightly.

Silence in the cabin as people watched the exchange.

The asari seemed non-hostile.

Minutes passed and his eyes flicked towards the vitals. She was fading fast. Critical warnings for elevated heartbeat and pain monitors flashed on the screen.

The camera view pitched forward and he realized she had collapsed.

Garrus had also noticed, “Alright everyone, the colonists are taken care of and we need to get the Commander to the med-bay. Williams grab the stretcher and your gun- we need to get to her NOW!”

They charged off.

Joker was left alone listening to the strained breathing of the commander. His nails dug into the armrest of his chair as minutes ticked by.

~~

Pashera woke once again on one of the Med bay beds. She turned her head and saw the still form of Tali lying nearby. Panic rose in her throat, “Tali?” she said softly while trying to reach for her quarian team member and friend.

“Shhhh, Commander. Settle down,” Chakwas grabbed her hand  and  stood in front of her view of Tali, “Tali’s going to be fine. Same for Wrex, Kaidan, and everyone else. You need to rest.”

Pashera struggled to sit up even against her dear friend’s protests, “How badly was she injured? How long have I been out?”

Chakwas sighed and helped her into a sitting position once she knew that Pashera would not stay laying down. “You’ve been out for around twenty hours. Tali…. She’s going to be ok. She’s running a high fever from a puncture in her suit but the varren barely got past the shields on her suit before they got to her. She got a light scratch but nothing beyond that. That new suit saved her life. –Commander! You really *MUST* stay still though-- Wrex told me you took Drop Kick and you’ve done some serious damage to yourself.”

Pashera leaned against Chakwas and shook her head, “I can’t, Karin. I need to report to the council as soon as possible. … Are we still on Feros?”

Chakwas gave an exasperated sigh, “Fine, but it will have to wait till I’ve got a proper brace on your leg. You’ve gone and broke it. And yes, we are on Feros. The others are helping the colonists and assisting on cleaning out any remaining Geth.”

With a grumble of protest Pashera agreed to wait.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Translations_ **
> 
> **Bēvakūfa vyakti** \- _Fool, foolish person, mope, stupid_  
>  **Khōja nīravatā -** _find peace/search for peace_  
>  **Maa kṣētra kā** - _Mother of land_  
>  **Rundi ka bacha** - _son of a bitch_  
>  **Pēṛa kutiyā-** _tree bitch_
> 
>  
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to my editors who help make it readable and thank you all for the lovely kudos. It really means a lot to me. ♥


	10. Inner Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inner demons (phrase): those voices, those feelings and emotions that bring darkness into your life. Personal struggles in your mind, almost always a solo fight

 

They spent over a week helping the Feros colony while Pashera ‘took time’ to heal. She had done far more damage to her leg than she had intended and ‘modern’ medicine could only do so much.. The council had of course been angry that she had killed the Thorian. She had spent a great deal of time considering hanging up on them when an argument started over how she only helped the colony because they were human.  Pashera and Liara had also spent that time using the asari mind connection to try and figure out the beacon’s message. They hadn’t found anything new, except for some exciting new ways to incite headaches in both species.

Now, Pashera sat in front of her private transmission terminal. Admiral Hack was on her vid screen, he had contacted her with a special mission request.

The scarred face of the blue eyed admiral filled her screen as he spoke, “ _I’m sorry, Commander. But the two Alliance Representatives that were sent have disappeared. It is believed that he has killed them and is now considered dangerous.  Your ship is in the area and this is important. He’s become an outspoken critic of the Alliance and we believe he’s mentally unstable. This could be trouble, Shepard. That compound is a cult. They call him ‘Father Kyle’ now. He’s set himself up as some kind of religious leader._ ”

Pashera sat stiffly, “I would like to attempt this mission without violence, sir. The Major—“

Hackett interrupted her, “ _Commander, he’s not the same man you served under. He feels responsible for all the Alliance soldiers who died at Torfan. His psych evaluation showed he couldn’t handle the stress of command any more. It may be too late.” He paused and looked away for a moment while thinking, “We don’t want a bloodbath, but Kyle is dangerous. I’ll trust you to use your judgment. Hackett out._ ”

With that the screen flicked off. Pashera leaned forward and covered her face with her hands, they shook and she pressed them against her skin harder to try and stop them. She looked to the bottle of brandy that Chakwas had left in her quarters when Pashera had panicked over giving the crew new gear. With a scowl she  poured herself a full glass. She gulped it as fast as possible in a desperate attempt to cover how upset this new assignment made her.  Regulation or not, she was not doing this mission sober.

She tapped her comm, “Joker?” Her voice came out a rasp.

“ _Yes, Commander?_ ”

“Set course for the coordinates provided by Admiral Hackett.”

“ _… Yes, ma’am._ ”

Her cabin was quiet again. Pashera poured another half of a glass and sat back. Her eyes stared at nothing but empty space and her mind wandered. Internally she was bracing herself for what was to come.

“ _Commander, ETA is thirty minutes. Should I notify the away team?_ ”

“N—,“ her voice cut out and she had to clear her throat, “No. I’ll be going down alone.”

No response.

She didn’t care; she finished off her glass and stood. The alcohol as hitting her system nicely, and she slowly pulled on her armor. A cold numbness settled over her and she headed for the cargo hold like someone sentenced to death.

When she arrived nearly everyone was there suited up. Tali sat nearby, but she hadn’t been cleared for combat yet. Her system was still recovering from the shock and reaction of the varren bite.

Pashera narrowed her eyes and looked at the team.

“ _Bhāṛa mēṁ jā'ō_ ,”  she muttered as she turned her back on them and went to go get her weapons.

 

~~

 

Joker rubbed over his face in thought—he’d always listened in on transmissions. It was kind of his job after all. The alarming thing was that this one had been strange and provoked a rather worrying reaction from the commander.

He tapped in the coordinates while thinking. Sure, she was a Spectre and could technically go on missions alone but if he was reading the situation right… this wasn’t something that she should do alone. Joker heaved a sigh. The commander was still limping heavily from the injury. She’d tried to hide it and he’d made a joke about it- he’d earned a glare and frosty silence. It was hard to know how to balance being the ship pilot and possibly trying to make friends with the emotionally clammed commander.  

He linked up the comms for the ground team, “Hey guys, listen—the Commander, she’s acting... weird, but we’ll be dropping soon over a small planet. I think you guys should suit up.”

The crackle of Garrus’s voice piped back at him, “ _Weird?_ ”

Joker didn’t think it was his place to divulge how much he’d heard when listening in, “Yeah.”

“ _…right. Because that explains everything. Okay, we’ll suit up._ ”

Joker leaned his head back as the cabin was back to its normal quiet once more. He hoped that hadn’t been a bad call.

~~

Pashera stood looking up at the building that loomed over her. It hadn’t taken them long to find the compound. The door controller was glowing a soft green, and she tapped the holographic bell button in the corner to request entry. She had no intention of forcing her way in unless it was a last resort. She waited. Her breath the only sound in her breathing helmet.

“ _This is a private sanctuary. Outsiders are not welcome here._ ” A stiff but scared voice piped out from the console.

“I need to speak to the man in charge. It’s important” Pashera answered patiently. She could easily have just walked in and started shooting, but she desperately wanted this to go without having to kill these people or one of the men she had served with.

“ _Father Kyle wants nothing more to do with the Alliance._ ”

“My name is Shepard. Major Kyle knows me. I * _must_ * speak with him.”

Silence.

After a few minutes the voice came back, “ _Father Kyle will speak with you. Head to the building at the far end of the compound. He’ll meet you there._ ”

Pashera turned and looked around to see what they were talking about. Her eyes fell into the small building that was a good distance from her. She turned and limped back to the mako that sat nearby. She had rather firmly asked her team to wait for her in the mako in case she needed back-up. There had been a great deal of protest until she had drawn her gun and threatened to shoot anyone who followed her.

She stepped onto the side bar and tapped the front window. Wrex’s face peeked through the tank’s window and she pointed towards the far building. She held onto the side as the Mako rolled resolutely forward. The burden of what may come to pass weighed on her and she gripped tightly as if it might push her off. Her mouth was a thin line and her stomach was clenched.

The mako stopped and she hopped off and started walking.

“ _Uh… commander…_ ” A voice piped over her comm.

The mako hatch was open and Alenko was stepping out with Liara. Their helmets on and blocking their faces from view.  

Alenko puffed his chest lightly as he hopped down and said, “ _We’ve decided we’re coming with- if you are going in._ ”

Pashera looked them over for a moment before turning and walking away. She said nothing. It didn’t matter  anymore and shooting them would be too much of a hastle. Through her suit’s auditory receptors she could hear them trotting to catch up as she made her way towards the door. The limp was still obvious as she walked. Although the bones in her leg were set, it technically  wasn’t fully healed and she was pushing herself to be up and on a mission this quickly. She tried to hide it as she moved towards the doorway but she knew it was still visible and obvious.

 

~~

 

Alenko marched resolutely behind the commander. He wasn’t sure what had caused it  but she was definitely acting every bit as ‘weird’ as Joker had said. For the first time since knowing the commander he was witnessing a new side of her that scared him. When she’d come out of the elevator her eyes had been distant and cold. Her face as devoid of emotion. This was the first glimpse of what people must mean when they spoke of The Butcher of Torfan. It was as if she was a completely new person. All the hours spent practicing biotics and seeing the small smiles. All the tiny laughs and gentle lines were gone. Now she was ice. The commander walked ahead now. Back ramrod straight and her walk was stiff and jerky as she tried to hide the limp. Chakwas hadn’t even cleared her for duty, so why she was up and about already was really beyond Alenko.

There was no resistance entering the building.

A young blond cultist gestured for them to follow her and she led the way past agitated looking people in silence.  Eventually, they reached a room and the girl leaned against the door frame and fixed the group with a seething look. Alenko watched as the commander paused to take a deep breath before entering  the room. Shoulder set in a firm line. Tension of a soldier asked to stare down the muzzle of a gun. The person that Alenko had grown to be friends with was now replaced with an icy commander. Whatever their mission was- it was breaking the amazing gentle person he’d found her to be. That fact alone felt like a burning ember in his throat.

A man with a military style buzz cut and blond goatee was near the back of the room and Alenko recognized him.

He now knew why the commander had been acting strange.

Fists balling, Alenko silently cursed Alliance brass for sending a soldier to possibly kill her own old team member. He still remembered the picture that the commander had shown him. Anyone would have recognized the Team from Torfan. Their pictures had been plastered on Alliance News for several months. However, Alenko recognized the man from the brief moment that the Commander had laid the picture down. The smile from the picture was gone, replaced by a haunted look, but he was still recognizable.

The commander approached the man slowly. Major Kyle’s eyes focused on her, “You,” he growled, “The Butcher of Torfan.”

Alenko didn’t have to see her face to know the words hurt her.

“Why have you come here, Shepard? Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Major Kyle’s voice was harsh and accusing.

~~

“Major, I have come to find out what happened to the Alliance Reps,” Pashera swallowed hard, the words felt like stones and they fell from her lips with a cold finality.

Major Kyle met her gaze--his eyes were wide and wild as he answered, “They wanted to take me away from here! They wanted me to abandon this place. Turn my back on my family. They spoke blasphemy!”

Pashera’s throat felt like it was closed tightly. If he had killed those Soldiers then she would *have* to try and bring him in or kill him. A distant part of her hoped that he’d simply had them locked away, but she knew better. She wished she could down another cup or two of alcohol now to brace herself. People he thought *him* unfit for duty but they didn’t see how soldiers coped when no one was looking. Too many people were good at hiding how they felt. She was one of them.

He continued speaking, “I did what I could to make their end quick and painless. I had no other choice. It was necessary to protect my children. Only I can keep them safe.”

With his admittance she felt her shoulders slump slightly. If the soldiers had been alive there might have been a chance for her simply take them and leave. Her eyes closed slowly. Reality was a crashing sound on the shores of hope and the cracks in her world were almost visible. Opening her eyes she spoke softly, “Major, I… I am going to need you to surrender. I do not wish anyone else to be hurt.” She managed to keep her expression mostly neutral but there was pain in her eyes.

His breathing had increased and his eyes slid to stare towards to hallway, “I respect that you have come under a banner of peace, _Commander_. But I cannot do as you ask. If you take away their father, my children will be helpless.”

“John,” she used his first name in hopes of getting through to him, “those were Alliance Representatives that were killed. You must face the consequences of your actions. If you do not surrender I- I will be forced… do you really want your children to suffer for your sins, too?” Her mind was scrambling in a final attempt to save the situation.

“NO!” He slashed the air with his hand, “This… this was my fault. My children are innocent. Pure. You cannot hurt them.”

Relief flooded Pashera. She had feared for a moment that he meant he wouldn’t surrender.

“I… I will surrender, Shepard. Just leave my children alone.”

“You’re doing the right thing, John. Your children will be better off for it. Come on.”

He took a step backwards when she reached towards him, “Wait. If my children see you taking me away they won’t understand. They will attack and you will be forced to kill them all. You have shown me the error of my ways, Shepard. Now you must give me time to explain it to them. It is the only way they will understand.” He paused and a sliver of the man she once knew seemed to peek through, “Please, Pashera, give me one hour. After that, I will meet the Alliance authorities at the gates of my compound and surrender without violence. I give you my word. ... _Pratijñā karanā_.”

For a moment she stood silent. The old words of promise she’d taught the group being used for the first time in years. The pronunciation was terrible at best but she still knew what it meant. Slowly she nodded, “You will have your hour. _Maiṁ pratijñā karanā_. You… you know what will happen after that.”

She turned and marched stiffly out of the room. She shoved her helmet on before she had even reached the airlock. Hands flicking  up  to close the seals and tapping her comm, “Joker, Notify the Fifth Fleet that Major Kyle will be waiting at the gates of the compound in one hour.”

“ _Yes, Commander_.”

They stayed till the pick-up was finished; waiting just out of sight from the compound until they were told that everything had gone successfully.  In silence, they loaded the Mako tank onto the Normandy and closed the cargo doors.

Pashera took off her helmet and sat heavily onto a nearby crate. She braced her elbows on her knees as she rested her chin on her hands, “No debrief necessary. You are all dismissed.”

Alenko took a deep breath, “Commander—“

“I said dismissed, Alenko. Do not… do not make me say it again.”

“…yes, ma’am.”

She sighed and looked to the ceiling. “Tell Joker to pull the Normandy into whatever nearby asteroid field and keep the ship hidden… I don’t care where. I need to review files before we plan a course.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The squad put away their gear and headed up to the mess area.  Soon there was no one left in the cargo hold but Pashera. Silence filled the area and it only made the screaming in her head worse. Her head was bowed, her gear untouched, and her face a stony frown. Blue eyes glared  at the wall across from her but she did not actually see it. It was hard to see past old memories now that she was sobering up.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there but a bottle was suddenly thrust into her view. Her gaze followed the arm up to the face of the holder- Garrus stood there in casual civvies. A warm grey top and black slacks. His expression was unreadable but Pashera accepted the bottle from him.   
  
He settled next to her and she passed the bottle back to him after taking a swig. She had to resist making a face, the odd blue liquid nearly glowed and it tasted like something that could be used to clean the guns.  Actually, when she thought about it- she wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Turians were known for liking things with multiple uses.

“Wanna talk about it?” He didn’t face her as he talked.

She shook her head and accepted the bottle back for another swig.

He shifted and crossed a leg over his lap and leaned back into the crates behind him, “You Know, there was this one time; I was investigating a strange flux of Black market body parts. Now, we didn’t know if it was some lab just selling illegally or if it was some psychopath dismembering people.”  
  
Pashera looked at him out of the corner of her eye but said nothing.

He continued, “As it happens, we ran a DNA check on a recovered turian liver. But would you know it- the supposed donor was still very much alive and swore he hadn’t lost a liver recently. Well, we looked into his employer- a salarian by the name of Dr. Saleon. So I went to his lab, hoping to find evidence of cloned organ development. But there was nothing. No salarian hearts, no turian livers, not one krogan testicle.”

Pashera had been taking another drink and she coughed violently. For a few minutes there was nothing but pained coughing as the alcohol hit places it should never have been. Burning nostrils and watering eyes were her rewards. Once she stopped coughing she asked, “Was that a joke?”

Garrus shook his head and took the bottle from her, “Sadly, no. Some krogan believe that testicle transplants can increase their virility. Counteract the effects of the genophage. It doesn’t work, but that doesn’t stop them from buying. They’ll pay up to 10,000 credits each. That’s 40,000 for a full set.”

A vague, far-away look crossed his face as he muttered under his breath, “Somebody’s making a killing out there…” She couldn’t tell but it almost seemed like he wished he had a different profession.

He handed the bottle back to her after taking a drink. “Anyhow, we were questioning some of his employees when one of them started bleeding profusely during the interview. We offered to patch him up and he got frantic. Freaked out. I ordered a full exam, to find out what was going on. Our medics found incisions all over his body. Some of them fresh. That was our big break.  These people weren’t just Dr. Saleon’s employees. They were test tubes. Walking, living test tubes.”

Pashera frowned, “growing the organs inside them?”

Garrus nodded, “Exactly. Cloned the organs right inside them and then harvested them. … Sometimes an organ wouldn’t grow properly, so he’d just leave it in them. Most of the employees were a mess, but only on the inside—hidden so nobody could see it.”

“Hm.”

Silence stretched. It seemed he was done talking for now. Pashera brooded and tried to decide if she wanted to talk about Torfan or not. She frowned and focused biotics into her hand and watched how it made her dragon glitter.

“You wanted to know what today’s mission was,” she said softly.

He shifted, “I-“

Her words were bitter as she cut him off, “No. Do not play coy. I know everyone is curious. … It is not everyday you see the commanding officer go on a mission reeking of alcohol.”

He gave a polite cough and looked away, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You are a liar, Vakarian.”

He looked uncomfortable. She handed him the bottle, “How much do you know about me?”

He tilted his head, “Honestly? …Not much. Just what some reports mention. You're legendary in the alliance for something during the Blitz.”

She rubbed her forehead and buried her fingers in her hair and she stared at the floor, “I was a colony kid. Mindior. We were hit by slavers. I lost my family.” She leaned back with a sigh and continued, “I joined the alliance to make… someone proud. I was angry too. Wanted to fight all the time though I… I’ve never told anyone that. The Alliance seemed to be the best way to do it. …Six years busting my cūtaṛa in the military and then I got a big assignment. Torfan. I… we pushed into the underground bunker. The team was pushing hard, People don’t realize that it wasn’t a short mission. We were down there for days. We lost a few team members. Stupid mistakes, but we were making progress. ...Then I recognized a Batarian. A slaver who had attacked Mindior. I lost it. Went nuts. I killed anyone I came across and abandoned my team.”

She was silent for a moment as she leaned forward and rubbed her face with her hands.

“People call me ruthless. An efficient killer. A ‘get the job done’ soldier. Truth is… I am just a monster.”

She stared at the wall as a strange numb pain filled her, “I killed everyone. Bugger all, I might as well pulled the trigger on my team members myself. I almost had to do that today. Major Kyle was part of the squad. What I did-- I drove him mad.  ...They called me in today because they know I can kill. But… to kill my own squad member….”

She hung her head and went back to being silent.

Garrus shifted, “Shepard… For nearly a month now we’ve worked together and if there is anything I can say… is that you aren’t a monster. Sure you can be a little scary and cold sometimes, but you regret, you pray, you go out of your way to nearly kill yourself protecting others…” His hand touched her shoulder softly, “You aren’t just a soldier, or a Spectre, or a human. You are a friend, and I am proud to know you. Hell, I’m willing to bet that anyone on this ship would say the same thing.”

Pashera looked at him. She wasn’t sure what to make of that little speech but it had seemed uncharacteristically caring from him. Maybe she just had a habit of judging people too harshly. Not everyone was as emotionally strangled as she was.  Sitting up slowly, she stared at him with mild suspicion; she wasn’t sure how to respond so she decided to change the subject, “So… what happened to that Dr. Saleon.”

Garrus’s hand fell from her shoulder and he offered the bottle of alcohol back to her, “He got away.  Blew his lab and ran with a bunch of his ‘employees’.  They sent the military after him but… protocol with hostages…” He shrugged, “I sent out feelers on some occasions. I thought I found him a while back, actually. He’s changed ships and changed his name to Dr. Heart—his idea of a joke, I guess. … I told the military, but they weren’t convinced it was him.”

Pashera frowned and stared at the far wall and handed the bottle back to him, “You know the transponder frequency?”

“Mhm.”

“Then I will make sure we check it out. If it’s him…” She stood and started walking to the elevator.  She didn’t want to finish her sentence.

 

~~

 

Garrus finished the bottle in quiet and silently thanked whoever had had the bright idea to stock the ship with an alcohol that could be drank by both Dextro or Levo species.

The whole team had suited up right after Joker’s message.

It had been a good thing too because he could almost smell the alcohol from her the second she had stepped off the elevator.

He’s been with C-Sec long enough to be able to read most humans pretty well. He prided himself on it. The commander always threw him for a loop, but then she’d walked in with that limp she was trying to hide and her eyes had that special haunted look he’d seen on far too many C-Sec officers. First time he’d seen it was when one of the turian officers had shot a kid.  The kid had pulled a knife—there had been no choice. The kid couldn’t have been more than five or six. It had been a bad day for everyone. That sort of look always was the signal for a soldier having a bad day.  

He sighed.

At least he’d made the commander laugh and she’d talked a little.

This last mission had shown how many walls she normally put up around herself. Normally, she walked around the ship with a polite half-smile and she would take time to chat with everyone. Garrus had spent time with her like everyone else. Together they'd spend time cleaning guns or she would hand him tools as he tinkered on the mako. As he’d gotten to know her, he found she was one of the few people that got his badly attempted jokes and rather wry sense of humor.

He hated that stony stare that she got when she was upset.

Sometimes he couldn’t believe he’d thought she was a stone cold bitch when they’d first met—those frosty blue eyes never blinking when she asked him what he’d found in his investigation. Then the second time they’d met, all she’d said was, “Risky.”  

He shook his head.

He’d been furious at her, but he hadn’t said anything—he learned long ago from his father that arguing never solved anything if the person was your superior. Hell, he’d been ready to walk away from it all when she just stared down at Fist as he was dying; nothing but that frightening blank expression on her face. He actually might have left if it hadn’t been for their need to rescue Tali. At that time he didn’t know what that expression meant, but now he was learning her. Reading the subtle differences in frosty glares.

He ran a talon under his chin and tried to recall when he first realized that they were friends. Probably, it had been that moment that she’d put him down on the mat. He’d felt the palm strike that had cracked his ribs and she’d tossed him like a child’s toy over her shoulder. She’d leaned over him, her curled black human fringe a dark halo, “ _You ok, Vakarian_?” she’d asked while steadying his head.

Cool hands touched his face plates. There had been worry in her eyes. The ice that was always present no longer looked so cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bhāṛa mēṁ jā'ō - Go to hell/fuck (generalized expletive to express her displeasure but general unwillingness to do more about the situation.)
> 
> Pratijñā karanā / Maiṁ pratijñā karanā - I promise. (Promise, commit, make a promise, pledge)
> 
> This chapter was short. Possible mistakes- no editors this time. :p


	11. Why Am I Alive?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” by George Bernard Shaw  
> Life (noun) : the existence of an individual

 

A sharp finger dug into Alenko’s ribs to propel him forward.   

Pashera and Dr. Chakwas were passed out at the dining hall table. An empty bottle of hard liquor sat beside them next to a small jumble of items.

Williams and Alenko edged closer to look at the items- A photo, a dried flower in a clear case, the cloth galaxy map, and the stone that Pashera had used during Nihlus’ funeral.  Cautiously, Williams lifted the picture from the pile and looked at it. A family of six was in the photo with what looked to be a very young Pashera sitting on a tree stump laughing. A lovely looking woman stood smiling brightly in a lab coat and two men stood on either side of her. A young man was standing at the edge of the frame with a shy looking smile and two small girls were playing in the mud nearby.  A field of brilliant purple flowers were behind them and the sky was an amazing blue.

Dr. Chakwas suddenly stood. Her legs unsteady, she rushed towards the med-bay bathroom. At her departure, the commander sat up and checked the bottle to see if it was empty. Delicate features forming a stormy frown when the bottle proved to indeed be lacking in liquor.  Alenko watched with apprehension as the tired commander looked over the small pile of items. Her hands moved to fold the stone and map back together and tuck them into her shorts pocket.

Slivers of blue were all that were visible of her eyes. Everyone knew she wasn’t very good at waking up, but Alenko had never witnessed it first hand. He watched as Williams cautiously placed the photo back on the table as if it might bite her.

The commander sighed, “You can look at it. It is… was- my family. Karin was… just helping me get through the anniversary of their death. I apologize for blocking access to the dining table.”

Alenko and Williams shared a look before sitting  like petrified children who had just been invited to join the dinner table of the wicked witch. He and the Chief had decided to try and ask questions before even approaching the sleeping commander. They were still determined to go through with it, but the task was far more daunting than they had expected. It was hard to keep private things secret on ships, yet somehow the commander was still an enigma to most people. Even those on her team only knew bits and pieces- and swapping stories only seemed to make the commander more mysterious.

The Commander yawned and leaned her head onto her hand, “Okay, I can feel your questions from here. Williams you can go first if Alenko is willing to be a true hero and get breakfast for us. Eggs will do if you please. I think I can stomach them.”

Williams leaned forward and slid the picture over to look at it again as Alenko made a dash for the kitchen area. He pulled out several packages and  strained to listen to the conversation.

“We all know about Mindoir, ma’am. But….” Williams looked at the picture with a frown, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost my sisters.” She pointed to the laughing girl she thought was Pashera, “this is you, right?”

The commander nodded and pointed to the people in the photograph, “From left top to right- My Dad- Endymion, my Mother- Selene, my Dad- Kernnunos, me, my brother Artemis, and the two in front are Lilly and Yasmine. Twins.”  

Pashera sounded wistful as she continued, “Lilly and Yasmine would have been eighteen this year.” She pulled the picture over and brushed it gently with her fingertips- lost in thought.

Alenko arrived with a handful of plates that steamed with eggs freshly warmed in the ship microwave.  He passed them out deftly and sat down.

The commander’s eyes were still slits that seemed to refuse to fully open, “ _Dhan'yavāda_ , Kaiden.”

~~

Dr. Chakwas walked out of the med bay and handed Pashera a small pill before retreating back to her sanctuary looking ill.

Without looking at the pill, Pashera quickly swallowed it. No doubt it was either for nausea or the headache. Regardless, she was sure she would appreciate it more when she wasn’t busy trying to wake up.

“Were you close?” Williams asked around a forkful of eggs.

Pashera smiled in memory, “Yes. The twins didn’t get along with some of the colony children so I spent a lot of time with them. We were thick as robbers.”

Williams stared blankly at her for a moment before she said, “Robbers? ….wait, do you mean thieves? Thick as thieves?”

Pashera took a careful bite of her food and chewed slowly. Her eyes still locked on the picture she nodded slightly, “I suppose I do. My dad always said phrases and idioms wrong. I think he did it on purpose but I’ve never learned the proper use of most of them. …. My dads were both amazing though…”

“What did your fathers do?” Alenko asked while looking at the picture.

Slowly she pointed to Endymion, “Endy was a veterinarian and freighter captain until he met my mother. He traded in his ship for a short range vessel and stayed colony side to raise us. He was a spacer kid, so he could never completely give up space travel. I learned a lot of what I now about ships from him. He helped organize trade for the colony when he wasn’t busy… he also helped repair mechanical stuff.” She pointed to Kernnunos, “Nuno taught dance and a traditional hand-to-hand combat. When he wasn’t at the dojo he was with us- he helped with our lessons and schooling. He met Endy in Omega… saved his life and got hired on as his bodyguard. They used to joke that he just never stopped. Always together...”

She leaned back and poked at her food.

“Joker said your brother had Vrolik's syndrome like him,” Alenko said around a mouthful of food.

Pashera raised an eyebrow and took a small bite of egg. It was the typical terrible Alliance ship food and she didn't know how he shoveled it down so easily. She swallowed before answering, “Yes. Though, Artemis didn’t have as severe a case. I think it was partly why he was so much of an artist. He couldn’t play like other children so he sculpted, painted… sometimes he sang songs with me. He had a nice voice. People were always surprised at how deep it was. He was really shy though. … I used to tease him about it and he’d put a dot of paint on my nose and say that he didn’t need more people when he had everyone he loved at home.”

“That’s… really sweet, ma’am,” Williams said stiffly. Pashera eyed her quietly while eating, her relationship with the chief was not as solid as it could have been been. The last time they had spoke Pashera had come down hard about Williams’ xenophobic tendencies, and she thought the chief might still be upset. She poked at her food before saying, “My family was sweet. Now… they are bittersweet. I know there is curiosity about me and my past- Pressly has actually openly asked me about it.”

Alenko gave a snort of laughter. He’d been present for the incident and Pashera was sure that he was remembering the result.

Pashera continued, “I toyed with the notion of speaking about my family but simply never saw reason to before now. My reasoning is that… a commanding officer must have a valid reason for getting drunk and falling asleep on the dining table of the ship they command. So now, I talk about it.”

Williams nodded, “Honestly, ma’am, I think we’d all be more worried if you didn’t do something like this. Makes you seem human.”

Alenko nodded and tapped at the picture with his fork, “Tell us about your mom. What did she do?”

Pashera gently wiped away a piece of egg from the picture, “My mother was an explorative botanist.” She touched the case of the flower that lay on the table, “This… it was the prototype for my mother’s greatest creation.  They-“ her breath caught and she turned away and pretended to cough as grief hitched her voice. After a few seconds she said, “They were beautiful. They were supposed to help enrich the soil, reduce the radiation on polluted worlds, and filter contaminates. They also produced a vitamin rich fruit.  It was one of the greatest achievements in Botany in the last 300 years. This… this is the first successfully grown flower. It was supposed to revolutionize colonization.” She stared down at the flower sadly.

Williams frowned as she said, “But nothing like that was introduced to colonies…”

“That is because it all burned. All her research. All her flowers,” Pashera tapped the case, “My flower is only a prototype. It only partially works. Cloning it wouldn’t do anyone any good so I’ve kept it. Her work and research died with her.”

Silence stretched after she’d spoken. No one seemed to know how to respond.

“ _Commander, there’s an Admiral Hackett on the terminal for you._ ” Joker's voice on the comms cut through the quiet tension.

Pashera stood slowly from the table, “I’ll take it in my quarters.”

“ _Yes, ma’am_.”

Pashera picked up her plate and personal items and headed towards her room. Once inside she set her plate on the table and personal items down on the bed. With that done she went to her private communications terminal and wearily sat down. Admiral Hackett’s face flicked onto her screen when she activated it. She crossed one leg over the other and frowned as she leaned back in her seat, “No disrespect, but please tell me you are not asking me to possibly kill another old squad-mate again, Sir.”

“No. Not this time, Commander. However, we think you are the only one who might be able to handle this problem. …I know Spectres answer to the Council, but you’re still human. You’re still part of the Alliance military, and right now we need you.”

Pashera leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, “What is the issue, sir?”

“We know it’s out of your way but there’s an Alliance training ground where we test weapons and technology in live-fire simulations. One of the Vis we use to simulate enemy tactics in the drills is no longer responding to our override commands. It’s gone rogue. We could bomb it from orbit, but the damage to the facility would be catastrophic. We’d prefer to have someone shut down the core. Particularly you and the team you’ve put together. We need you to fight your way through the training ground to the VI core, and manually disable it.”

She rubbed her forehead, “Location?”

“Earth’s lunar base.”

Pashera gave a nod, “I will set course. As I am sure you are aware- we are just over a day out. Are there injured soldiers on the base?”

“No. We’ve evacuated everyone who wasn’t killed initially. You’re the only one who can pull this off, Shepard. Good luck. Hackett out.”

Pashera flicked off the screen with a sigh. It wasn’t as if they were doing anything else. For days they’d been running Alliance errands while searching for information or leads as to where Saren or the Matriarch were, but she was tired of the patronizing ‘you’re the only one who can do this in our fine military’ attitude they had been giving her. She understood that being a Spectre and having her own ship meant that people regarded her differently, but some of these request were edging into the realm of ‘completely ridiculous’. Chasing monkeys had nearly been the last straw, and she’s had to fight to keep her temper in check.

Idly, she pulled at her eyebrows while thinking. They really did need to restock supplies soon, and Anderson had asked if she could visit him. Desk life was driving him crazy and he was worried- the last time they had spoken was just after Feros and she had been a complete mess of injuries.  The crew could probably use some shore leave as well since she had been running them so hard. With a resigned sigh, she opened her omni-tool.

After sending off a message to Anderson she tapped her comm, “Joker, please set course for the Alliance Lunar base. Also if you can work with everyone to put together a list of items that we are low on or people feel the need to request. I will send in a requisition so that it is ready to pick up by the time we finish this mission and head to the citadel.”

“ _Sure, Commander. I’m sure the crew can put together a list of items.  I’ll send you the list when it’s ready._ ”

Pashera stood slowly. Her breakfast now forgotten. Depending on the route It might be somewhere over 20 hours to get to the Sol system from their location and  after that she was going to have them drop by the Citadel.

Anxious footsteps pulled her across the room as she began to pace.

Now would be a good time to see how her body had healed and get in a workout.

She put the picture of her family and the dried flower into her keepsake box before heading off to exercise.

~~

Pashera somehow had ended up in a push-up contest with half the crew.

Most of them had dropped out and now it was just Alenko, Williams, and Wrex.  The rest of the crew was cheering them on and Pashera wondered why this couldn’t have just been a nice normal workout. She breathed deeply and pressed downward. Ages back she had lost count but she was sure someone watching actually knew the scores. Sweat dripped from her face, and she pushed upwards.  A roar of cheers—Alenko had dropped. She had been surprised at how long he lasted- not once had she actually seen him exercising beyond using biotics.

Pashera ignored the chants and cheers. Her sole focus was on keeping her form. Not long ago her arms had begun to shake and she wasn’t sure how much more she could do.

 Press **up**. Lower _down_. Press **up**. Lower _down_. Press **up**. Lower _down_.

More cheers and she glanced to see who had dropped. Strangely it was Wrex. He was grumbling about human females cheating because they didn’t have the extra weight of a hump on their back. Pashera snorted in laughter as one of the female engineers commented saying that instead of a hump on their back they had two on their chests and they were in no way cheating. Pashera wasn’t as well endowed at some ladies but she gave a partial agreement. Krogan were like tanks- they had their own unfair advantage with all that brute strength.

 Press  **up**. Lower  _down_. Press  **up**. Lower  _down_. Press  **up**. Lower  _down_.

Pashera looked over to Williams. She would never hear the end of it if she let Williams beat her. She grit her teeth and kept going.

 Press  **up**. Lower  _down_. Press  **up**. Lower  _down_. Press  **up**. Lower  _down_.

The rhythm was all she could concentrate on as she powered onwards. She knew her muscles didn’t have much left, and she would only be able to do a couple more before her arms gave out. She growled and pushed up. Cheers and whistles erupted around the Cargo hold. Williams lay on the floor panting. Pashera did two more push-ups just to prove to herself that she could. Her arms burned, but it was worth it to see Williams face. The sour look of someone who’d bitten into a batarian eqqui-bean.

Someone handed Pashera a towel as she sat up. Around her, people attempted to covertly exchanged cred sticks. She smiled to herself; she’d never found anything wrong with friendly betting on her ship. Her ship. The thought still made her smile even after all this time—it may officially belong to the Alliance but the Normandy was hers right now. Still, it tickled her that people made an attempt to hide the exchange of winnings.

Shakily, she stood and offered a hand to help Williams to her feet.

Williams waved her hand away, “No offence, ma’am, but I’m just going to lay here for a while. Possibly die. Or maybe just nap. You're brutal. and evil. I may hate you, ma'am.”

Pashera nodded, she honestly felt the same at that moment. A nap sounded wonderful. She walked over to Wrex who was sulking nearby and offered him her hand, “Sorry, Wrex, I thought you would win that one.”

He shook her hand and shrugged, “Eh. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised when it comes to you, Shepard. Plus, you’re young—too much energy for your own good.”

She drapped her towel over her shoulders and shrugged, “Oh I don’t know about energy. I’m pretty sure most of that was pure stubborn pride. I think the energy part went out of the window halfway through.”

Alenko came by and clapped her on the back. He made a face and wiped his hand on the towel when he felt the pool of sweat. “I can’t believe you actually beat everyone at push-ups *while* suffering a hangover.”

Amusement trickled over Wrex’s face, “Hangover? Never would have guessed it, Shepard. There’d be wars for breeding contracts with you if you were krogan.” He scratched under his chin, “Pity.”

Pashera gave a strained smile as Alenko continued, “Yeah, she drank Chakwas under the table last night.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and leaned into her, “I didn’t even drink and those push-ups were way too much for me.”

Wrex gave an airy snort, “That’s because you usually do ten push-ups down here and call it a day. Surprised you made it as far as you did.”

Pashera slowly disentangled herself from Alenko, “I must leave you _sajjanōṁ_ to your chatter. A shower calls my name. You never know when we will get called for another stupid ‘monkey’ mission.”

“Aw,” Alenko jokingly whined, “but it’s bonding time. You can’t just win and leave. Now you have to stay and *bond* with your loser crew.”

Pashera waved over her shoulder as she walked away, “My loser crew does not need the medi-gel of my company for their prides to heal.”

Laughter followed her to the elevator.

 

~~

 

Pashera sat on the floor of her shower. Finally, her body felt fresh and clean. She had been merely a couple steps from reaching her room for a well deserved shower when Joker told her that they were passing a certain transponder that she had given him.

The transponder frequency had been for Dr. Saleon’s ship.

She had them deviate their course and board the ship. Instead of a shower, she had hurriedly pulled on her armour and left to meet with Garrus. Once they boarded the ship it had been a short fight. Afterwards, she had prayed that the souls lost on that ship would find peace. Garrus had been less than pleased till he realized that she was praying more for the victims than Dr. Saleon’s cooling corpse. That ship had been a slaughterhouse—splatters of orange, blue, red, and purple blood were everywhere and stained the floor. There were no corpses though. Although she was relieved, she also felt upset that if any of the victims had family they would remain un-notified.

Once they had finished and resumed their course for the Sol System, Pashera had finally been able to strip down and take that well needed shower. Her arms ached. Her head hurt. Nausea from her hangover had hit her once the pill that Dr. Chakwas had given her wore off.  

She was in a foul mood.

Leaning her head back against the cold metallic wall, she took a moment to close her eyes.

~

_Fire._

_Shadows danced around her as she stood in a familiar room. A butterfly mobile was twisting in the hot currents of air caused by the flame. Wails and shouts from neighbors drifted on the wind with the smell of burning flesh._

_A child’s scream echoed in the flickering orange light._

_It came from the room down the hall that belonged to the twins._

_The sound of gunfire. CRACK. CRACK._

_More screams. Terror filled the murky night air._

_Her limbs moved as if she was trying to run through a vat of omni-gel. She slid while trying to turn down the hall- her feet couldn’t find grip on the cold metal floor._

_The door at the end of the hall was open and a figure stood over her two young siblings. The body of her sister Lilly was crumpled on the ground._

_The man turned—and he was not a man._

_The batarian’s four eyes flickered with the reflection of the flames and a nasty grin was formed over his pointed teeth._

_Pashera screamed in rage and a fire burned within her. She leapt at him and she could see a strange blue glow reflected in his eyes as she struck him. A mighty crack echoed and her ears rang._

_PAIN._

_Blood coursed down her face. He had tried to shoot her but his aim had been off. A sharp burning line raged like fire across her face as she tackled him. The blue glow formed at her hands and she punched him until there was nothing but a red pulp where his face had been._

_Her breathing was ragged as she turned to where her sisters had been._

_Sobbing._

_Yasmine was kneeling over Lilly and the blood soaked into her dress._

_Blood._

_There was so much blood. Too much. It was a growing pool of red that flickered and glittered with fire._

_Pashera couldn’t breathe as she slowly crawled forward to touch the small and too still body._

~

Pashera awoke with a gasp that turned into stifled sobs. She bit hard on her lip to stay quiet.

She had not meant to fall asleep on the floor of the shower. Her body was stiff and painful, and she curled up and pressed her hands to her face. Ages back she had managed to train herself to wake before she saw the small broken body of her sibling but somehow she hadn’t been able to wake this time before seeing Lilly’s blue eyes clouded with death.

She remembered holding the small body and sobbing. Nothing had hurt worse than that moment. It had opened a wound so terrible that all else had felt like little more than pinpricks on numbed skin. Pashera bit her hand to keep her sobs quiet as the memories hit her like bombs. Overwhelming and painful. That memory had been her first experience using biotics—and the reason she felt reckless and wild with rage. A monster of  bloodlust whenever she used them now. The training sessions with Alenko had been helping but she still felt the Hyde to her Jekyl in the back of her mind.

In time her sobs died away and she stood stiffly from the freezing floor.  

She dressed slowly.  Dark bruising tinted her hand where she had bit down and a small trickle of blood dripped from where she had pierced the skin. She picked up the pill bottle for anxiety and stared at it.

She didn’t need one.

But she did need something to make the pain feel less… painful. She looked around. The last of her alcohol stash had been downed the previous day when remembering the anniversary of Mindior. Chakwas had expressed some concern over the increasing frequency that Pashera had been turning to alcohol. Said something to the effect that it was perfectly okay to have a drink every now and then but drowning herself wasn’t ‘a good sign’. Pashera had resisted the urge to roll her eyes and show the good doctor the hidden reserves she kept for the nights when she didn’t come to the med-bay. It was far more common than the good doctor would have ever expected. It was the ‘visibly’ drinking part that was new- not the amounts.

Pashera sighed.

She would need to see the doctor anyhow about her hand. Although it hadn’t been her main hand she knew a hand injury could be serious trouble for firing her weapon. Pulling on a jacket, she headed to the med bay. Before leaving her room she pulled the hood to her jacket up to block her face from view. Wild curls puffed out of the edges but she didn’t bother trying to push them in. They helped hide her face from view as she passed crew members, and she hoped that no one would try and talk to her.

They didn’t.

Tali was sitting on one of the medical beds as Chakwas took some readings and Liara sat nearby looking over a datapad. All eyes turned to her as she entered. The last thing she wanted was to look weak in front of her crew. A nauseating fear hit her. Quickly walking to the back room, she refused to meet the prying eyes. The door slid shut behind her.

A familiar chest pain began to blossom and she felt the sting of regret. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to take the anxiety medication after all. She made her way to the far side of the room and slid down against the wall. Her breathing was panicked and she felt the shaking in her hands start. Tucking her hands under her arms, she looked to the ceiling. Small tears escaped her eyes. For once she didn’t try to press at her eyes as if she could hold the tears back. She curled her knees to her chest and tucked her head down. The jacket to her hood helped block the dim light and she tried to focus on anything but the panic.

She could hear the soft whisper of the door opening.

“Pashera?” Liara’s gentle voice felt like icy knives and Pashera held her breath in hopes that Liara would leave and not hear her sobs. Over the past few weeks she had grown close to the asari. Between trying to untangle the beacon’s message and occasionally practicing biotics- she was beginning to consider Liara a friend. The asari may never understand her bad jokes or sense of humor but she was always kind and patient. But even then Pashera hated seeming weak in front of her crew members and Liara was now part of her crew. Liara also didn’t know much about Pashera’s past. The asari loved to listen in and join in the gossip, but her knowledge of human history meant that things like ‘Mindior’ and ‘Torfan’ meant very little to her. Pashera was sure that the asari had no real grasp of the horrors that Pashera’s memories held and honestly- she didn’t want her to. The risk that is would change how Liara looked at her was something she dreaded.

The young asari sat next to her.

Pashera’s shoulders shook, and she knew Liara could feel it.

“I… I do not know how to comfort very well. We both know I’m not very good with people…” Liara laid a gentle hand on Pashera’s knee, “but… I am here if you need me.”

Pashera was quiet for a while. She waited for her lungs to feel less like she was drowning and the tears to slow.

Liara shifted slightly, “Dr. Chakwas told me about your nightmares. Not a lot—but… would it help to talk about it?”

Pashera looked at Liara in the gloom and found that she was holding a small Kleenex box.  Liara offered it to her, and she accepted gratefully. She was not an attractive crier- snot, tears, and blotchy face marks were her reward for crying. Pashera blew her nose and sighed, “Would talking about it actually help? I just… want to forget it. Talking seems like it would dredge it up more…” Her voice was slightly more nasal that she cared for and she could feel a headache creeping up on her.

Liara leaned against her. She was a warm presence in the darkness as she said, “I’ve heard it can help, but I’m not an expert. You know me, I spent 50 years researching a dead race- social interactions have never been my strong suit.”

Pashera gave her a small sad smile without realizing that the asari probably couldn’t see it. “Are you sure it is something you want to hear? It is not…. It is not a good story.”

She could hear Liara sigh gently in the darkened room, “I would listen to you-- even if I didn’t want to hear. That’s what friends do for each other, right?”

Pashera leaned her head against the asari and frowned in thought. That was a strange answer and she wasn’t sure how to begin even if she wanted to tell the story. For a long time she was quiet before she closed her eyes and sank into the memory.

“I… The nightmare is of when my colony was attacked by batarian slavers,” she paused as her throat tightened, “it… it was midsummer's eve. The twins’ birthday. We had played in the nearby woods and wove flower crowns all day, the whole family…. My brother had even come with us—it was not often that he got out of his workshop.  He wanted to spend time with us before he left for Trellia Academy.”

“Trellia? That’s an asari school for the arts. He must have been very talented to have been accepted.”

Pashera hmm’d before answering, “He was. Full scholarship, actually. We… we were all really proud of him. I have a picture from right after we got the acceptance message…” She cleared her throat and fell quiet. After a few minutes Liara asked, “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want.”

“No,” Pashera said with a small shake of her head, “It seems… wrong to stop now that I’ve begun. I will continue. We had stayed out to watch the sunsets and did not return till it was late. The twins had fallen asleep before the suns went down…”Her breath hitched and she went quiet while she waited for her voice to come back. “The dreams always begin when I wake to the fire. It was dark that night except for the light of the flames as our neighbors’ houses burned. There were screams... and gunshots,” Pashera kept her eye tightly shut and tried to continue. Her mind kept bringing up the smell of burning flesh and she fought back the rising sickness. She swallowed hard before continuing “I heard screams from the twins and I ran to them. Th-there was a batarian standing over them. I used my biotics for the first time. No implant. I didn’t know I even had biotics till that point. I just… tore him apart.” her hand drifted slowly upwards to trace along the scar on her face, “But not before he fired his gun. The shot...”

“When I looked, Luc- Lilly lay… there was…” Pashera stopped to take a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I held her and cried. She-she would have been so beautiful. A beautiful girl. Yasmine had sat next to me. Everything…. It was like a filter had been put over me. I couldn’t hear. Everything was blurred. My chest felt like someone had ripped my heart out…. I held one of the greatest loves of my life in my arms as she went cold. I had tried so hard to protect her… from... I… -- but when it mattered most I failed her.”

Liara took Pashera’s hand and held it tightly.

Pashera continued slowly, “I-I do not know when my brother and fathers came in but they picked up Yasmine and got me to my feet. I… I would not let go of Lilly...”

She went quiet- her chest had clenched painfully and she had to focus on breathing. Pushing away the memories.

Liara tilted her head, “You… said fathers. I’d heard from Alenko that you had more than one but I am unaware of any biology that might allow for multiple fathers….”

Pashera rubbed at her chest with her free hand and gave a soft laugh, “Only one was my blood father. I... Mindior was mainly for colonists who followed Polyamory/polygamy ideas and traditions. The benefit of colonies and space travel I guess. People with certain ideals can create safe havens where they aren’t shunned for their practices. My mother loved my fathers, my fathers loved each other as well as my mother. It… seems complicated from an outside point of view I suppose but our family was happy. I loved my parents and they were… amazing. I was particularly close to Nuno… he taught dance. I wanted to take over the school and teach with him when I grew up...”

With her eyes still closed she leaned her head back and tied to remember where she left off, “Uhm… so… my fathers and brother had got me up and we ran. I… didn’t know what had happened to my mother till later. The batarian had gotten her first. My fathers had been helping the neighbors with a generator malfunction when the fire started… they came as soon… it just… wasn’t soon enough. Mother was deaf from a lab accident… she never heard the attacker…”

“We ran towards the fields. My mother’s flowers… they… there was an explosion and the fields were ablaze. I think it had been my mother’s lab. Some of the fertilizers in there had been…”

She sighed and shook her head slightly, “anyhow, The blast lit the field on fire and it went up like... like... _Nav Varsh ki shubh kamanayein_.” She opened and closed her hands to try and mime an explosion because she didn’t know a better way to describe it. Even rocket launchers couldn’t compare to the explosive sound she remembered. She continued, “We were trapped. Endy handed Yasmine to my brother and… he and Nuno held off the batarians while we ran. I… I was near blind at this point. The blood from the wound had gotten into my eye. My brother somehow held my hand and my little sister as we ran. I don’t know how he managed. I probably broke all his fingers with how hard I held.”

She ran her hand through her hair. Her eyes still closed as she watched the memories like old videos that had been burned into her eyelids, “There was a grenade. It landed right in front of us. We… we didn’t see it till it was too late. I was behind my brother... I- I would have given anything to have it reversed. He and Yasmine took the brunt of the blast. I remember laying there. Everything was blurry but I could see their bodies lying nearby. I was sure I was dying. I remember looking down at my chest and seeing my clothes slowly turn red where the shrapnel had hit. I… blacked out.”

“That’s… that’s horrible,” Tali’s voice made Pashera jump. She opened her eyes and stared.

Dr. Chakwas and Tali sat on the floor nearby. Pashera wasn’t sure when they had come in, but it was evident they had heard most of the story.

Tali sniffled, “How… how did you survive?”

Pashera looked around the group and sighed, “I will tell if Karin would be kind enough to pour me a drink.” She looked at Chakwas with a frown. The doctor didn’t move from her seat but slowly leaned and pulled a bottle and some cups from behind her. Chakwas wanted her to find an alternative to drinking, but at the moment it was all Pashera wanted and Karin knew that.

Once Pashera had a drink in her hands and had taken a couple sips she said, “Anderson.”

Tali tilted her head in confusion.

“I woke up to a blood red sky. The smoke in the the sky… I did not wake for long but there had been a soldier kneeling over me. It was Anderson. You met him in the ambassador's office.  I remember tasting blood and it was like I was trying to breath fire through a straw. He grabbed my hand and told me everything was going to be okay.  I passed out and when I woke up again… I was in a breathing machine in an Alliance camp. They had responded to the attack but really… it was over before they could get there. All they could do was clean up, gather bodies, and hope they ran across a survivor.”

She took another sip and the warm numbness of the alcohol began to fill her. She lifted her chin and touched the scar on her neck, “They had managed to save me but the shrapnel had cut across my throat.Severe damage to my vocal cords. I wasn’t able to call out. I don’t know how long I lay there listening to my own breathing and crying before Anderson came in and told them I was awake.  I still can’t stand the sound of my own breathing like that…” She paused to sip her drink, “No one knew sign language. Eventually, it was Anderson who thought to use a datapad.  He… he helped me find and bury my family. Even learned the Death lullaby because I couldn’t sing it.”

Tali had her knees tucked against her chest, “Death lullaby? Sign language?”

Liara shifted, “Yes I’m curious about this as well.”

Pashera stared down at her drink, “The death lullaby is a mourner's song from my mother’s religion to help ease the passing from physical to corporeal.  I… I hope none of you ever have to hear it,” She tossed back the rest of her drink, “As for sign language… it’s considered a dead language since humans started altering children in the womb. My family only spoke it because my mother had refused implants to allow her to hear. ...Said she liked the silence… helped her work better. ...Ironic.”

She stared bitterly down at the cup in her hands while thinking.

Tali shifted nervously.

Pashera bit her lip and struggled to her feet, “I… apologize for not being better company.”

She stepped past the girls on the floor and quickly left the room. She couldn’t stand the growing silence that had come with telling her story and she wanted to find something to do.  She stalked to her room and sat down at the desk. There were plenty of mission reports, odd data, and messages that needed going over.

Her elbows touched the hard surface of the desk and her chin rested delicately on her interlaced fingers. She started with a hard frown at the terminal before her and was lost in bitter thoughts.

~~

Doctor Chakwas stood with a groan, “Well that was unusual.”

Liara looked up from her seat against the wall, “Her running off?”

Chakwas picked up the bottle of alcohol and abandoned cup before answering, “No… opening up. Pashera isn’t one for telling people things. Even I didn’t know all of that story.”

Liara and Tali sat together in the dim room quietly while they thought over all that Pashera had told them.

 

~~

Pashera stood in the comm room with her squad seated around her, “Aright, I need everyone to link omni’s.” She told them, holding her’s up as data on the current mission blinked and twirled in the orange holographic glow.

Everyone raised their own omni-tools and linked. Each now showing the information as she pulled up the maps provided by the alliance.

“This is a high risk mission,” her fingers danced over the hologram as she adjusted the image, “we must split into three teams and enter into each bunker. Our objective is to shut down the core with minimal damage to the bases. Be on the lookout for survivors—I have been told that there are none, but I would like to still attempt to save lives if possible…” She shrugged and continued, “Be warned—this is a rogue battle VI we are going to face. These bunkers were meant for live fire training.”  
****

She lowered her arm and looked around the group, “Any questions?”

Tali was flicking through the information on her omni tool, “Shepard, it seems that the base has the ability to release a toxic gas…”

Pashera nodded as the information flashed onto her screen, “Good throw. Okay, in light of that, everyone will be required to keep their helmets on as a precaution. Use the chemical filters and we should be fine. I’ll notify Chakwas that we will all need to submit to a toxicity scan once the mission is finished.”

Liara raised her hand and Pashera looked to the ground to hide the smile. Of course school-girl Liara would raise her hand to ask a question. Pashera looked back up once she had regained control of her face, “Yes, Liara?”  
****

The asari maiden blushed a pretty shade of purple, “I… well I was just thinking that we should try actually naming the teams. Team one, two, and three seems so bland.”

Pashera closed her eyes and breathed in slowly as the chatter rose up in agreement. She wanted so very badly to laugh at the absurdity.  Breathing out through her nose, she opened her eyes, “O-kay. First team will be Wrex and Alenko. What will your name be?”  
****

“Hammerhead,” Wrex said without missing a beat. Pashera nearly face palmed and Alenko shrugged with a good natured grin.

“Fine, second team is Williams and Vakarian. What would you like your team name to be?”

Ashley and Garrus spoke together for a moment before Garrus looked up and said, “Boom squad.”

Pashera felt her neck tighten as she clenched her teeth to fight back laughter, she could swear the ex C-Sec officer wore the Turian equivalent of a smirk. “Alright. Liara and Tali are with me in Team Awesome. Everyone suit up- we drop in ten.”

Murmurs went through her squad as people expressed how they wished _they_ had chosen the name. Pashera turned and headed out the door while laughing—she hadn’t been able to hold it back any longer.

~~  
****

They had little to no trouble in the base. Communication was smooth and each team made it to their objectives without incident. The gas didn’t even cause a problem since they had prepared for it beforehand. Pashera was proud of her team.

She stood at the console with Tali and helped shut everything down.

As the last console went dark there was a burst of white noise over all frequencies that nearly deafened the crew. Pashera’s eyepiece displayed an interpretation of the sound as a series of 0s and 1s. They repeated again and again, blanketing all frequencies, until the lights of the final VI cluster flickered and died.

Pashera watched with a frown before opening her omni-tool.

==**==

\--Search query--  
01001000  
01000101  
01001100  
01010000  
  
\-- 1 Result—

TRANSLATION:   HELP

==**==

Pashera stood staring at the word on her screen and felt bile rise in her throat. She had not considered that the VI might have accidentally become self-aware.  If an AI had awakened to a facility in the midst of live fire exercises- it might have mistakenly thought it was under attack, and defended itself.

“Pash, Is everything alright?” Tali asked hesitantly from nearby.

“I…” Pashera flicked her omni-tool display off and gave a fake smile. “Yes. Can you two head out to meet the other team at the mako and tell Joker he can land?”  
****

“Uhm… sure,” Even through the cloudy helmet Pashera was sure that Tali was giving her an odd look. It seemed like Liara and Tali were walking on eggshells around her since hearing the story of Mindior.

Pashera waited until the others had left before kneeling down and placing a hand gently on the console, “I am *so* sorry... I never thought to check if you were something more. Though many in my party would not agree with my sympathies—I have never believed AI’s to be… threat is not the right word… but I believe though that AI’s have souls like all other life,” she paused and stared at the console, “I… I do not know a prayer for machines, so I am going to improvise. _Maa kṣētra kā_ … Luna this soul is new- help them. _Khōja nīravatā_ in their passing. Let not their metal bonds shackle them to this land. Give them new wings to fly on the great wind…” She bit her lip, “and… forgive me… I-… if you had asked for help sooner…”

Pashera hung her head in shame—she knew the Alliance might have bombed this place from existence if they had thought there was an AI there but she wished that her hasty actions had not just extinguished a possibly confused new soul.  She stood and touched the console with a shaking hand, “go easy from this world… I hope you are reborn into a new form and you find joy, love, and peace.”

She turned and left the building.

~~

Tali watched the commander closely through the mission.

Worry ate at her that maybe she and Liara should say something about the previous night. Pashera had seemed so upset and Tali felt helpless in not being able to comfort her.  She remember how it had felt when she had lost her mother and she couldn’t imagine losing siblings. It hurt to even imagine losing her father who she wasn’t really that close to.

The burst of white noise left a ringing in her head.

Tali’s watched from behind Pashera.

She’s never been very good with reading alien facial expressions- it was all body language for quarians since their helmets blocked view of their faces.  When Pashera had stood looking at her omni-tool there had been… a change.

It was subtle. A tense way in how she held her head. The smallest movement as she clenched her fist. The slight shift of balance as her back tensed. And even for someone bad at reading facial expressions Tali had been able to see that the smile the commander had given never reached her eyes.

Lingering outside the doorway with Liara, she heard the soft sad words that her new friend spoke to the now quiet machines. As she listened, Tali remembered the first argument that she’d had with the Commander. Pashera had crossed her arms over her chest as Tali desperately tried to explain why it had been so important that the quarians acted quickly against the geth when when it was first realized they were sentient. As she had explained passionately the Commander’s posture had become more and more riddled with anger.  Eventually, Pashera had just spoken softly, “It was wrong.” Without another word she’d turned and left.

Tali had feared for days that she was going to just drop her off at the next planet or fuel station.

Or worse-- tossed out the airlock, as the commander was fond of threatening.

Tali felt a confusing mix of anger and sadness. She wanted Pashera to understand why AIs were bad but at the same time she could see how caring a person Pashera was to pray over even dead machines.

A gentle tug at her arm.

Liara led the way out of the base.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dhanyavaad or Dhan'yavāda - Thank you  
> Sajjanōṁ- gentlemen  
> Nav Varsh ki shubh kamanayein - Happy new year (in reference to the fireworks typically set off during new years celebrations.)  
> Maa kṣētra kā- Mother of land  
> Khōja nīravatā - find peace/search for peace 
> 
> Authors note: 'Kernnunos'- Although it is typically spelled Cernunnos the change in spelling is, in fact, intentional. Also, if anyone is mythos nerd enough to recognize the three parent's names and how they connect then... well... congratulations. 
> 
> eqqui-bean: Sour batarian candy. Similar to an earth coffee bean but with sour citrus notes and far more bitter. Unlike human candy, batarian candy is typically sour, bitter, and less than enjoyable for most species. Few batarians actually enjoy 'sweet' sweets.
> 
> Trellia Academy: Notable asari art school. Elcor artist Forta attended this school. One of the few asari schools that allows non-asari applicants. Requires an invitation- which can only be earned by impressing one of the four Matriarchs who run the academy. Very expensive- scholarships are widely sought after.
> 
> Aaaaah. Happy N7 Day! (whew finished before the clock turns!) I hope you all enjoy and 'yay'... sad sad backstory. Cheers!


	12. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes (plural noun): an action(s) or judgment(s) that is/are misguided or wrong.

 

The team celebrated for much of the way back to the citadel. It had been the ‘first’ mission in a while where ‘no one was hurt’ and Pashera could heard the laughter all the way in her cabin. Really, it was just an excuse for people to blow off steam, and she knew they needed it. Wearily, she sat looking over a supply list that had been handed to her upon her return from the moon base.

Pashera had excused herself from the celebrations by saying that she needed to file some reports before they reached the Citadel. In truth, she did not consider the mission a success. How could she? But she couldn’t express her reasons to the crew. No one would understand her grieving the loss of a rogue AI.

Frowning,  she looked over the list again. Why were there requests for a Fornax magazine and 23 different types of earth beer? Chocolate covered fruit?

She put her head down on the desk. That was the _last_ time she would have Joker put together the supply list. Years in the military and he still pulled pranks like a ten-year-old. Admittedly, it was part of his charm, but today she didn’t feel as appreciative as she normally would.

When she closed her eyes, the memory of the white noise from the machine rang in her ears.

With a sigh, she sat up and opened her terminal to start ordering the supplies from the list that she knew they *actually* needed. After rubbing at her hairline in frustration she caved and ordered five types of earth beer, some Dextro/Levo safe alcohols, and the requested chocolate. Joke or not- the crew needed something to unwind with and she had no qualms about alcohol.  After some thought, she decided she would pick up the Fornax magazine and personally hand it to Joker to see his facial expression.

Pashera had yet to let on, but she enjoyed his sense of humor and often secretly egged him on. The pilot was well liked among the crew and his pranks often helped ease tension. She was glad he’d finally loosened up enough to actually make a joke with her.  It was obvious he’d been afraid of her for a while, but within the last few missions she was sure something had changed.

“ _Commander, we will be arriving at the Citadel in a few minutes_ ,” Joker’s voice broke through her musing over her comm.

“Alright, thank you. Oh… and Joker, we are going to have a talk about this requisition list later.”

“ _Too far_?”

“…perhaps a little.”

“ _Gotcha._ ”

Pashera stood with a stretch. Anderson had made reservations for lunch and she had yet to get dressed. She looked at the simple top and slacks she’d lain on the bed and wondered if she could ask for Emily’s help in shopping for some new clothes later. That was a thing friends did together, right? She was never sure and for the most part ‘normal’ clothing styles were horrifying in the colonies. She’d seen retro ‘future’ movies with better taste in clothing. At least people on the citadel had a mildly improved taste in clothing.  

She rubbed the bridge of her nose in an attempt to banish her frustration.

“ _Uh… Commander_ ,” Joker’s voice interrupted her musings on friendship.

“Yes… Joker?”

 _“If you’re ready you might want to come up here, there’s an Admiral at the docks with a face like he just licked his own--_ ”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

“ _… lemon tree?_ ”

“You were not going to say that.”

“ _You’re right. But seriously- you should get up here._ ”

“I am on my way.”

Pashera dressed quickly and pulled up her hair into a quick and very fluffy bun. No time for more prep she dashed out of her cabin and up the stairs. As she passed her XO Pressly she said, “I have a feeling that we may need to be prepared for an inspection.  I will let everyone know when it is ok to leave the ship. Hide evidence of the celebration.”

He gave a nod and ran off to inform the rest of the crew.

It was not long before Pashera stood at attention before the sour faced Admiral. He gave a stiff salute, “Rear Admiral Mikhailovich, Fifth Fleet.”

Pashera returned the salute, “Commander Shepard, SSV Normandy.”

The Admiral looked her over with a pinched frown like he’d like sniffed a pile of shit, “You don’t know who I am, do you Commander? I command the 63rd Scout Flotilla. You and the Normandy were slated for my unit after shakedown. When the Council got you in their paws... Claws. Tentacles. Whatever. They got them on our ship.”

Pashera said nothing and bit down on her inner lip. She had somehow managed to forget how… unpleasant humans could be with their racial issues. In truth- earth still suffered poverty, racism, and sexism. She could tell by the man’s sneer that this was going to be a trying encounter. Williams’ and Pressly’s Xenophobic attitudes had slowly been becoming less of an issue as they worked with the alien crew members but there were many who still held tightly to nasty prejudices.

Many like Admiral Licked-his-own-lemon-tree-ovich.

He turned his gaze from the ship to stare at her. “And you just soak it up. Spectre. Lapdog of the council. Servant to all these alien races and you do it willingly.  ...Hell, I won’t be surprised if you didn’t even remember what color your blood is, Commander.” A little sneer rode on his face as he spoke.

Pashera’s blue eyes flashed and her mouth was a firm line. Even if she was a Spectre, she knew better than to shout what she was thinking— _Bhāṛa mēṁ jā'ō, I’ve got monthly reminders of my blood color thank you, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one between us who’s seen battle in the last twenty years. Jerk._  She locked her hands behind her back. He didn’t seem to be interested in her response though as he continued, “I don’t begrudge the politician’s decision to throw you to the Council. It’s an… opportunity. I do begrudge this overdesigned piece of tin, though.”

Her blue eyes flashed with anger and she bit her tongue harder than intended. The unpleasant taste of blood seeped into her mouth. She was thankful she had her hands firmly behind her back, because she knew that she might have taken a swing at him. The thought of spitting the blood at him briefly crossed her mind.

Every word he spoke was grating on her nerves as he waved an arm towards the ship, “This ‘ _experiment_ ’ diverted billions from our appropriation bills. For the same price, we could’ve had a heavy cruiser. But no, we had to make nice with the turians. Throw money at a co-developed boondoggle. I’m here to make an inspection, Commander. Normandy is an Alliance warship. I intend to see she’s up to snuff.”

Pashera stepped to the side and extended her arm towards the ship. She still didn’t trust herself to speak. He looked at her, “Wait here. I won’t be long.”

She simply scowled at his retreating form.

He had not lied. His ‘inspection’ had not taken more than ten minutes. In that time Pashera had stared stonily over the docking rings. She stood at attention even if it made her still healing leg ache.  As he was coming back he snarled, “I’m not happy.”

Pashera couldn’t help herself and a snarky reply tumbled from her mouth, “Sounds like a fairly common situation.” Inwardly she winced. She knew better than to antagonize an officer ranking above her. Then again she was a Spectre- didn’t that mean she outranked him now? Probably not. This was the type of person who would look at her like a grunt even if she wore admiral stripes.

“Commander, I suggest you secure your mouth. It’s going to get you in trouble,” he said coldly.

She began counting slowly to 100. His attitude was fairly typical and she shouldn’t have lost her temper.

For the next twenty minutes he asked her about different parts of the ship and she would politely answer why it looked or was placed the way it was.

“--And we need to talk about your crew, Commander. Krogan? Asari? Turians? What are you thinking? You can’t allow alien nationals free access to Alliance equipment!”

Pashera sighed, she had been expecting that question sooner, “Sir, treating other species with suspicion and distrust will not win hearts and minds. We need allies against the geth and Saren. I understand that you hold issues with the Normandy, but I think she is a good ship, sir. Even you have to see that a multiracial crew makes the Alliance look better. I trust my crew with my life and could not ask for a better squad.”

An ugly look crossed the face of the Admiral, “Your job *is* to ‘look good’, Commander. The Alliance Navy’s job is to win wars. You’re nothing but a publicity stunt. A monkey in a suit. I’ll be submitting a report to the Joint Military Council… I’ll… take into consideration what you’ve had to say. Goodbye, Commander Shepard.”

With that he was off. Pashera waited till he was in the elevator and well out of sight before making a rude gesture and turning back to the ship. Part of her wanted to flip her lid at the implied racial slur but another part of her simply didn’t want to give him the time of day. She wished it wouldn’t be such a drastic issue to punch an Admiral.

She hoped Anderson wouldn’t mind her being a little late.

~~

Joker had patched into the Commander’s eyepiece. She very rarely took it off- he’d found that out by mistake when he’d patched into it once and saw her rubbing something over her bruises. She’d been completely nude. Although he was not unfamiliar with nude women – _being as he often browsed porn when he got bored_ \- he had not really wanted to see the commander nude.  Now, however, he and several of the crew members watched her get berated by the Admiral who’d met them at the docks. 

“What a jerk,” He muttered.

“Why is she just staying quiet?” Liara leaned over Joker’s chair and he could feel her breast press against his shoulder. He felt a mind surge of panic- now was NOT the time to risk an erection.

“Uh… Liara? A little space?”

“Oh… sorry,” She leaned away.

It was Tali who noticed that the Admiral was coming their way. They scattered and Joker flicked the screen to a ship report and waited stiffly for him to pass by.

The admiral hmm’d and grumped as he walked briskly around the ship.

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so infuriating.

As soon as the Admiral had left the ship everyone was standing over Joker’s chair again.

_“I’m not happy.”_

_“Sounds like a fairly common situation.”_

A quiet cheer went up around the cockpit. Finally the Commander had landed a verbal blow.

They watched and grumbled as their commander faced down the Admiral and politely answered question after question.

“I don’t know how she keeps her temper,” Tali said as the Admiral jabbed a finger near the commander’s face once again.  

“She told me once she counts. If she’s really annoyed she tries to count backwards,” Chakwas said from the back of the group. No one knew when she had joined them and everyone looked guilty.  

“ _Sir, treating other species with suspicion and distrust won’t win hearts and minds. We need allies against the geth and Saren. I understand that you hold issues with the Normandy, but I think she is a good ship, sir. Even you have to see that a multiracial crew makes the Alliance look better. I trust my crew with my life and could not ask for a better squad._ ”

All eyes went back to the screen. Pashera was talking about them. Not just that- she was defending them in that same polite way, but Joker could see that there was an increase in the commander’s heart rate.

Chakwas was walking away, “You guys might want to look less guilty *before* she comes back. Oh… and Joker,” She turned and looked down the ramp at him, “It may be best that you tell the commander you’ve been spying on her. I can only mend so many broken bones.”

He wasn’t so sure it was a joke.

~~

Pashera stood in the cockpit of the Normandy and looked over the guiltiest looking crew she’d ever seen. To her surprise nearly everyone, including Presley seemed to have been involved. Apparently, they hadn't scattered fast enough.

She put her hands on her hips, “Well?”

Tali fidgeted, Liara wouldn’t meet her eyes, even Wrex looked abashed.

Pashera sighed and threw her hands in the air, “Oh for—You realize I see the icon on my eye-screen every time you tap in right? It is not exactly a secret. Anyhow, I am late for a meeting. Shore leave can begin now- we will be here for 48hrs or until all our supplies have arrived. Dismissed.”

She turned and walked off while shaking her head.  It had taken a few missions before she realized what the icon had meant, but seeing their reactions had been priceless when she let it drop that she knew. After some research and questions she knew that Chakwas also patched in occasionally. It was Alliance standard to have soldiers patched to the ship. There was a privacy mode she could use on her omni-tool if it really concerned her. Though it didn’t.

~~

Soft instrumental music played over the speakers as Pashera entered into the Restaurant that Anderson had given her the location of. It was on a balcony overlooking the presidium. A short little man with the most amazing mustache she had ever seen had directed her to a far table.

Anderson stood and shook her hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said before sitting in the empty seat, “I got held up by an Alliance Admiral who wished to inspect the ship.”

Anderson sighed, “Yes, I’m sorry. There are some in the Alliance that seem to be having an issue with the first human Spectre not being 100% under their control.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He gave her a wry grin. “I took the liberty of ordering something I thought you’d like by the way. ...So how are you holding up, kid? I know the date passed recently. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

She put on a brave smile, “I’m ok. … No… that was a lie and you know it.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead, “It was a little rough. The twins… they would have been eighteen this year.  I fear I may have drunk Chakwas under the table again while blathering on about flower crowns.”

He gave a slight nod, “I heard.  How’s the leg healing?”

“It is better. I am not really limping anymore, at least. I think it will ache where the break was for another month or two… how is life at a desk treating you?”

“Ha, trying to change the conversation? Fine. It’s ok. Boring. I’ve actually joined a local underground fight ring to keep in shape.”

“That desperate for action?” She asked with a smile as she took a sip of the water provided.

Anderson shrugged, “Yeah well—“

“ _Commander Shepard? Sorry to bother you. My name is Lieutenant Girard_ ,” a heavily accented voice piped over her comm and she froze. Anderson saw her face and she tapped at her ear to let him know that she was listening to her comm.

“I am listening,” She replied. She wondered how he had gotten her frequency.

“ _I’m down in the docking bay. There’s a woman here, uh… She was rescued from batarian slavers a few weeks ago. She’s from Mindoir. I guess she was taken. …In the raid on your town._ ”

Pashera closed her eyes as a feeling like ice in her veins swept through her, “Is she alright?”

“ _Not really. She’s a little… messed up. She got free somehow. Grabbed a gun from one of my guys. Now she’s holed up here in the docking bay. She, uh—she says she wants to die. I… I hoped you’d talk to her. It’s a long shot, but you went through the same thing. The raid. I figured maybe you could talk her out of her tree._ “

She stood abruptly- her chair nearly falling as it tipped away from her. The action startled a nearby waitress into dropping a glass. Pashera spoke into her comm, “I am on my way, Lieutenant. Sit tight.”

“ _Anything you can do would be great. I don’t want to—she’s been through enough. I’ll have my men stand by for you,_ ” Relief could be heard in the voice on her comm.

Anderson was standing as well with a questioning look.  

“They have… found a survivor from Mindior. A slave. She has gotten a gun and is in the docking bay. They are under the impression that I can talk her down.”

Anderson nodded, “Then I’m coming with,” he turned to a nearby waitress, “Steph—I’m sorry but something has come up. Can you send the orders to my office and send me the bill as usual?”

The young waitress nodded and walked quickly away. Pashera nearly dashed for the door. On another day Pashera would have moved to tease him for knowing a waitress by name, but right now her mind was on other things. Her father’s eating habits would have to take a later priority.

It took them longer than she would have liked to find a free cab and she sat anxiously tapping her fingers against her thigh until Anderson had caught her hand, “Hey kid, It’s going to be ok.” It was all he had to say. She felt herself calm down and in a few minutes she was standing in the elevator that led to the private Alliance docking bay.

Two men stood looking out over one of the docking arms and Pashera walked towards them.  As she approached one of them turned and gave a salute, “Commander. Captain. Glad to see you.”

She recognized the voice as the one who had contacted her over her comms, “I wish it were under better circumstances,”she said and her eyes roamed the platform, “Where is she?”

Lieutenant Girard turned and pointed, “Behind those shipping containers. We’ve got a sniper positioned, but I don’t think we’ll need him. She’s only a danger to herself. We’ve got a sedative to calm her down, but we can’t get close to her. Every step we take gets her more wound up.” He offered the small pills in a plastic cup to her and she accepted them.

Pashera nodded at the young man before she looked to Anderson. She didn’t have to speak- she gave a slight shake of her head while making a small gesture with her hand and this time it was him who nodded. He was not to approach. They’d spent enough time without words to know how to read each other and he knew the sign she’d made with her hand.

She turned, squared her shoulders, and started walking slowly down the docking arm to where Girard had pointed. Rounding the corner of the containers, she could see a pale girl in black civilian clothing. Her head was shaved bare and she was thin enough that her cheeks were sunken.

The girl raised the gun to point at Pashera when she came around the corner, “S—Stop! What do you—What are you?”  Her voice was high pitched and young sounding.

Pashera stood still and spoke on a calm even voice, “My name is Pashera. That man down there—Lieutenant Girard—sent me to talk to you. What is your name?”

She girl’s eyes darted around wildly, “Animals don’t get names. The masters put their symbols on her. Hot metal all over her back. She screams when they do it.”

Pashera’s heart felt like it was breaking. She wondered how old this poor girl had been when she was taken she looked almost eighteen... the same age her sisters would have been. Her chest clenched painfully and she tried to keep her tone gentle, “You are not an animal. Your parents? What did they call you? Do you remember them?”

“She remembers a lot of things,” The hand holding the gun started to shake and lower, “Talitha. They call her that. Sh—she doesn’t remember the rest.” Her eyes blinked rapidly.

“I am going to take a step towards you now, okay?” Pashera slid one foot forward  and slowly settled into the closer position.

The girl cringed, “NO! She’s no good. Don’t want to be handled again!”

Pashera thought quickly. She would need to get the girl thinking about something else, “What is… the last thing you remember from Mindoir?”

The girl’s eyes were wide as she relived the memory, “Fire. Smells of smoke and burning meat. Animals screaming as the masters cage them. As they put the metal to their backs. Put the wires in their brains,” She turned and whispered to the ground, “She pretends to be dead.  If she’s dead, she can’t work. But they *know*. She hopes they’ll leave. But they put her in the pen. She didn’t fight. She was already broken when they put the wires in.”

“Talitha… you were five? Six? No one blames you for staying quiet and hoping they would go away. The only person blaming you... is you.”

The girl’s shoulders slumped, “She wants to believe that. She wants to believe nothing would change,” The girl looked up. Light glimmered off the girl's face  and Pashera saw that she had dark blue hazel eyes, “She doesn’t want to be there anymore. In the pen. In the cages. Lying quiet while they do things to her.”

Pashera closed her eyes slowly. She knew she had to keep her voice calm and comforting but this… it was almost too much.  She wanted to rage and cry. To hold the girl and tell her everything would be ok—but she couldn’t do that. She breathed deeply and opened her eyes, “What happened to your parents?”

She edged forward slightly as the girl spoke of how her parents burned in white light.  Talitha’s lips trembled as she continued, “They’re dead. They try to save her, and the masters burn them. Can she stop remembering now? Please?”

“Talitha, look at me,” The girl uncovered her face and those scared blue eyes looked up at her. Pashera continued, “I was on Mindoir. My family died in the raid.”

This seemed to agitate the girl and she shifted, “Lying. You get hit for lying. Get the buzz or the burning. Can’t be there. Why are you alive?! Why are you—Why aren’t you like her? Broken. Only fit to dig and carry.”

Pashera looked at the ground, “I was. For a while I was broken. I lost everyone, Talitha. My friends. My family, my childhood. I had to pull myself up and keep going. “ She didn’t add that sometimes she thought she still might be broken- _just pretending to be fixed_.  

The girl’s head cocked to the side and she stilled, “You lose your mommy and daddy. But you don’t dig. You don’t carry. You stand up. … She wishes she could stand up.”

Pashera needed to keep her talking, needed her to trust her enough to take the pills. “How did you get here, Talitha? Did you escape?”

Talitha’s eyes darted around, “She can’t escape. They have chains. Wires. Needles. You go too far, they take your brains away. Animals like her come. Animals with guns. They make the masters explode. She tries to fix the masters. So that they won’t be mad at her. She puts all the reds and purples back in, but they don’t move. The other animals take her.”

“You were afraid. You tried to heal them. Talitha, it is okay.”

Talitha winced, “She doesn’t want to see the other animals. They’re not real. They can’t be real. They can’t see her. If the other animals can see her then this is real. But it can’t be. The wires. The chains. The hitting. This doesn’t happen to her. It’s another girl. A dirty girl. A stupid girl. She deserves it! It—it happens to her. Doesn’t it? …They see her, so it’s real. She doesn’t want it to be real.”

Pashera stepped forward slightly and held out her hand, “Talitha, this will make you sleep. If you fall asleep, they will take you to a place where you can get better.”

Talitha's fingertips gently brushed Pashera’s palm as she plucked the pills from her hand.  After she swallowed the pills, she looked at Pashera with wide eyes, “Will she have bad dreams?”

Pashera couldn’t help it, she wrapped her arms around the girl and hugged her close, “I don’t know. I hope not. I hope that when you dream you are warm, safe, and happy. And when you wake up- I think you will be.”

Talitha began to go limp against her, “She’d… like that. It… It hurts when she—when I remember me. But she wants to remember.” Pashera held the girl as she lost consciousness. Eventually, the two men came around the cargo container with a stretcher.

“Thank you, Commander. I didn’t want to hurt her… we are taking her to a counseling center. They’ll help her get better,” Lieutenant Girard patted her shoulder and they took the limp body of Talitha away.  Pashera sat against the cargo container and stared out over the docking port where ships lazily drifted by.

Anderson came and sat next to her, “That bad?”

She couldn’t look at him, “Yeah.”

“I’ve got a bottle of Russia’s best back at my office.”

Pashera smiled slightly, “Karin would chastise you for that. She thinks I’m drinking too much lately.”

“Are you?”

“...No more than usual.” She leaned her head back and stared at the expanse of stars visible past the docking area, “Maybe. To be honest, I do not know.” She could feel the tear slide out of her eye and she knew he had seen it by the way he shifted.  She blinked rapidly and tried to keep any more from escaping, “The nightmares have been... worse. Karin thinks the beacon might have triggered some sort of reaction that is causing it.”

He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. He rubbed at her arm in comfort, “No matter what, I’m proud of you kid. I know it’s been rough but… It’ll be ok.”

She was quiet. She didn’t feel like it would be ok but she loved hearing him say it,  “Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, kid. So are you going to take up that offer and we can have lunch and drinks up at my new office or are we going to wait till our asses go numb from this terrible floor?”

She gave a snort of laughter and sat upright with a groan, “I think it may be too late.”

 

~~

 

Around her head neon lights flashed. She’d managed to find a seat in the little bar section of the Flux club. She was too drunk to care if the owner was a Volus or not. He sat there happily promoting his upstairs quasar section and making polite conversations while serving drinks with those that sat at the bar.

She’d eaten with Anderson and drank little. She hadn’t wanted him to worry—so she had excused herself and said she still needed to run errands. It wasn’t exactly a lie but she had no intentions of running those errands now.

Music roared from the dance floor and she tapped the bar to ask for another shot.

She wanted to drink until the memories were as blurry as her eyesight but so far neither had happened. A hand hit her shoulder and she looked up to a familiar scarred krogan face. She gave a bright and slightly drunken grin at his hulking form, “Wreeex.”

She couldn’t quite tell his expression but he gave her a solemn, “Shepard.”

With the stupid grin still plastered on her face, she motioned for him to sit at the empty seat beside her and tapped the bar for the volus’s attention. She held up four fingers and gestured to the large krogan beside her. The volus gave a hesitant nod and set to pouring a set of glowing green shots.

“I owe you a drink right? Then let’s *DRINK*,” she slid three of the green ryncol drinks towards Wrex and took one for herself.

~~~

Wrex awoke to the pounding of his skull. It had been several hundred years since he could drink and not get what the humans called ‘hangovers’ and longer since he’d drank enough to not remember the night before.

He grumbled. Something soft and heavy was draped across him and his chest felt like he’d cracked a few ribs the night before. He could tell he was already healing- but it still ached.

He started to wonder what it was that was on top of him. It felt rather strange for clothing or a blanket. He grumbled again and shifted. The thing fell to the floor.

 _THUMP_.

A groan.

His eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look towards the sound. He would never let it show on his scarred face but all he felt was a unique dread at what he saw.

A very nude Commander Shepard was flailing on the ground with sheets that had tangled with her when she fell. He was in a strange room. Her room? Probably… no, *definitely* her room. Had to be. It smelled like her. He watched as she slowly got up and stumbled into a small side room. From the sound of running water he hazarded a guess that it was her private restroom.

He could hear mumbled cursing from the other side of the door, “ _auuugh, fuck. It bloody hurts tuh fuckin pee. ...Āpasa mēṁ gālī… fuck’n damn._ ” Probably the least eloquent he’d ever heard her speech. Normally, every word was spoken with a stiff correctness… and cussing seemed to be rarer still unless it was in that strange language she occasionally used. At least, he assumed most of the strange language was cussing. Some of it didn’t seem like it, but most of the situations she used it in were definitely cuss worthy.

Without moving, he watched her as she stumbled out of the small room and flopped back down on the bed. She curled close to him and he could smell a mix of alcohol, blood, himself, and her usual strange flowery scent. He remembered the first time he’d really gotten her scent. She’d been at the ‘punching’ bag of the cargo hold. Sweat and flowers. He hadn’t trusted her yet. Wanted to test her. She’d surprised him. Was stronger than expected. He’d surprised her- faster than she’d expected. It had shown in her eyes. Those pretty blue eyes. Blue eyes were rare in krogan- and often thought to be a sign of battle prowess.

A soft snore.

“Shepard?” He muttered softly at her. Part of him really didn’t want to wake her up- but he was also really wondering why she was still trying to sleep next to him. Nude. In her room. Alone.

She hmmed softly but didn’t move from his side.

“Shepard?” He said again slightly louder.

She mumbled and wrapped one of her surprisingly strong arms around his waist.  Defined muscles rippled on her arm. She was warm and her fingers tickled. Beginning to panic, his mind searched for answers. His memory was fuzzy beyond the abundance of drinks he’d had with her. the inability to recall the night was causing him to panic more. His panic was making him angry for feeling panicked. This wasn’t something he could just blow up or shoot.

“SHEPARD!”

He wasn’t sure where she got the gun, but she definitely had a gun. In a flash she had crouched protectively over his thigh- straddling his leg- and she was scanning the room looking for whatever enemy had caused Wrex the yell. He had not expected that. He knew she was a warrior but she had seemed so peaceful in her sleepy state and he hadn't even gotten a scent of weaponry beyond the normal lingering scent they both carried.

Somehow he’d forgotten she was a survivor. A Warrior. And even mostly asleep she was scary. He would never admit the last bit though. He respected her for her krogan-like ferocity in battle. She’d never flinched from taking a hit, and even when she was past her limit she would push with a primal roar and charge. He wondered what limit they had pushed last night.

He was pretty sure they had pushed a LOT of limits.

“Wha-…. What…..” She lowered her gun and sat and went from looking ferocious to looking small and confused. Wrex realized at this moment that he was nude as well. Definitely nude.  Her inner thigh was hot against his leg where she crouched. Warm everywhere else. And soft… like fine desert sand. He had to give himself a mental slap when he realized what he was thinking and could feel the stir of his erection. Now was definitely not the time. If ever. Still, though she didn’t have plating or natural armor, her body was attractive in it’s own way and the markings on her skin were interesting.

She rubbed the side of her head with an irritable expression and asked, “Wh- Why are you yelling?” and grumbled as she flopped back against him, “Uuuugh, my head.”

Humans had too many strange facial expressions, like asari. He wasn’t always good at reading them. He’d seen the commander smile though- in battle she was either blank as a stone or a dangerous angry. There never seemed to be an in-between. On the off moments when she wandered the ship there would be polite smiles and possibly the occasional laugh, but she always reminded him of a varren that had been beaten as a pup. Emotional walls higher than anyone could climb... but now, laying by his side she no longer seemed so guarded. For once she actually almost seemed relaxed.

With a yawn that showed all her strange little teeth, she resumed her curled position against his side. Her breath tickled hot against his skin. Her arm once again was draped around his waist and she pressed herself tightly against him.  

“Shepard.”

She groaned her reply from where her face was pressed to his side, “whaaaaat?”

“Why are we here?” He rumbled. It wasn’t a good question. It wasn’t even what he had wanted to ask, but really he just wanted her to stop arousing him with her soft form pressing against him.

She sat up slowly and rubbed her face with those tiny five fingered hands. The strange thing humans called hair was stuck to her cheek and lips and she grumbled softly as she pulled the small strands away. He liked her hair. It was fascinating. Dark like fresh turian blood before the oxygen hit it and made it blue. No other human seemed to have  hair quite the same though. Large curling springs that fluffed around her face. It was fascinating. The first time she’d undone it after a mission had nearly sent most of the aliens into a panic. The giant fluff of her fringe had made most of them think she was angry or warning them away. It had taken some very patient explaining on her part before anyone accepted it. Wrex thought it more humorous than anything. Scary fluff fringe. The thing of legends.

She looked around the room in apparent thought after rubbing at her eyes and running her fingers through her hair a few times. Eventually she answered the question he’d asked, “For privacy and sleep… I guess?”

He growled and sat up. His chest hurt. His crotch felt like the time she’d kicked him in the quad. He’d never admit it to her but he’d hurt for days after that. Krogan healing didn’t help with bruised genitals. He didn’t begrudge her though. It had been a brilliant debilitating move… but it had hurt like all hell. He loved sparring her but he’d been far more careful after that incident.

He heard her heave a sigh as she crawled out of the bed. Her small hand flicking out in a habitual movement to turn on a small device to the side of the bed. Soft music flowed out of the device as he watched her. Scratches along her back and dark bruises on her hips gave him a more firm grasp of why they were in her cabin. He’d suspected by the smell in the air but with the hangover he wasn’t sure. Sex with another species was not really something he knew the smell of right off the bat. His eyes lingered on her rear as she walked- no tail but still strangely attractive for an alien.

She set about to making her favored tea. He’d seen her make it previously- she seemed to be addicted to the stuff. He could smell the flowery scent from across the room. It was similar to her own smell but not by much. The sight of a small tattoo on her well muscled torso caught his eye. It was a blue moon with a heart and human script that he couldn’t read without the secondary translator program on his omni. From what the program was picking up, he hazarded a guess that it was a name. Not that he intended to ask though.

He watched her frown as she looked at a datapad that was set on the table. At a touch an audio file with growls and moans began to fill the cabin. She tapped it and the sounds stopped. At that moment, he really wished he had a shotgun right then for if she decided to try and kill him. He wasn’t even sure if he had presented her with a gift or followed the proper permission rituals by krogan standards. What if he hadn’t followed the rituals for _human_ standards? He knew they were similar but most of what he’d seen was for bonded pairs.  Would she want commitment? His hand clenched on the bed. He wasn’t against commitment but it wasn’t something he could really give. Not as a warrior. And without a clan...

Wrex watched her carefully to see her reaction. She just hmm’d and sipped her tea. It was… unexpected. He had seen her in the past when she was angry. He’d expected those blue eyes of hers to turn his way filled with cold rage that could freeze even an old krogan in his tracks.  Instead she just made an amused hum that was horribly similar to the moans that had been on the datapad. Ancestors, what he would give to hear those moans… nope- bad train of thought. Another mental slap.

How was he supposed to react to this? He groaned and leaned forward to put his head in his hands- this was worse than when he’d gotten drunk and woken up in that salarian brothel on Omega. That had been his biggest reason for not drinking quite so much anymore. Why had he thought he would be fine going drinking with this tiny female force of nature that even his krogan ancestors might bow to?

~~

Pashera stood nude checking her messages.

She was fairly sure she knew what had occurred between her and Wrex after what they’d heard on the datapad, but she was worried by the exorbitant amount of messages on her omni-tool that they may have caused some trouble in the citadel while they were drunk. She could see a new tattoo on the Krogan’s arm that she was sure hadn’t been there previously. The tattoo gave her a lead on why they might not remember things.

She heard him groan as he put his head in his hands.

Worried, she looked him over, “Feel free to use the bathroom and shower if you want.” She said with a gesture towards the restroom. She hoped he was alright, but even after all this time she couldn’t read his expressions well. Korgan facial cues were not the same and she had less experience with them.

He didn’t move-- just fixed a red eye on her and gave the famous solid stare. She went back to checking the messages.

She was slowly getting an idea of what might have transpired. Messages from Emily, German, some of her crew, C-Sec, and a rather frigid message from the council had filled her inbox.

They had gotten drunk. Met up with German. Ran into Emily. Gotten tattoos and more drunk. Stole a food cart from the wards. Made condom balloon puppets of the councilors and put them around the presidium. Lit Udina’s desk on fire, …and apparently signed up the entire council and Normandy crew for a subscription of Fornax magazine.

She sipped her tea in thought. She should probably be mortified, but really she was just impressed. They had REALLY fucked up. She wondered if there was a recording of them lighting Udina’s desk on fire.

Nope. Just fines. A lot of fines.

She sighed and began working on transferring credits. Thank goodness the council had paid her recently. This was going to eat into the funds she had planned to use to upgrade the crew’s weapons.

~~

Wrex was still fighting panic. He didn’t know how to handle human customs most of the time. Now she stood across the room in her state of undress while checking messages. She acted like it didn’t matter that there was a naked Krogan in her bed. She’d even politely told him that he could use her private bathroom. Wait…. did he sign a breeding contract with the Commander while he was drunk? More panic. He adored her. She was one of the fiercest fighters he’s ever known. He was almost certain he valued her above most other Krogan.

But he’d never considered her a potential mate.   

“Hey, T. Do you remember stealing a food cart?” She asked suddenly. _T?_ Was she directing that question at him? Her pale blue eyes stared at him. She was.

“No, Shepard,” He answered stiffly.

She was about as talkative as he was most of the time. Always thinking- rarely actually speaking. He liked that about her. Maybe being mated to her wouldn’t be so bad. Actually, he would be rather proud- she was like an ancient krogan goddess in battle and had always taken time to listen to him when he did actually want to talk. He wouldn’t have wanted to start a bond this way though. Ancestors, he’d fucked the big one this time.

Her gaze shifted back down to her omni-tool, “Pity. I was hoping one of us would remember where we put it.”

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. What had they gotten up to last night that they had stolen a food cart? He scratched his chin. The food here wasn’t great. Mostly just dried rations. They had that strange heating device called a microwave to heat meals but Wrex didn’t trust it. He hadn’t minded the cookie-biscuits that the commander occasionally brought down to him though. He liked her visits. They would clean their guns and eat the sweet, bread-like circles. She would usually have tea too but Wrex couldn’t stand the taste of it. Too flowery. He liked when she would hum though. She would always hum when she got really into her work. Krogan used to sing. Wrex remembered some of the old songs but they were never really sung anymore. Some of the female shamans kept the knowledge of the songs though. Wrex had always thought that Shepard’s songs sounded a lot like some of the old krogan ones.  

But why had they stolen a food cart?

He grumbled and stood. He felt weird being near the commander when she was this unclothed. Sure she rarely wore much when she was exercising but this was different. More-so when the memory of how her skin felt when she was pressed against him. He grumbled more as he headed for the shower. He was going to take advantage of her offer.  Maybe the hot water would make his head hurt less. Stupid alcohol. Stupid decisions. Stupid humans. Stupid nude, attractive, scary commander. …Stupid, stupid krogan.

~~

Pashera watched out of the corner of her eye until Wrex had made his way into her restroom. She’d been a little worried about his reactions. He was usually pretty unreadable but today he’d seemed particularly tense. She frowned slightly- _was it because he was against interspecies sex? Was he bothered by what must have occurred?_

She ran her hand through her hair and tried to fight away the tangles. Her thighs hurt. The scratches on her back hurt. Her hips and abs hurt. Her head DEFINITELY hurt.

She opened her terminal and pinged German for a vid message. He answered. He was groggy and undressed as well.

“Hey, German.”

“ _Hey ma chère. Good to see you in one piece- I was a little worried after you and Wrex left. I think my special brew hit you guys a little hard,_ ” His normally pristine hair was mussed and he briefly fussed with it before huffing and giving up. It looked like a tangled white mane that almost matched her own.

She gave him a small smile, “I am afraid I do not remember much. Care to share what went down, _Būṛhā ādamī_?”

“Ah well, you get my messages?”

“Yes.”

“ _Okay, so you know most of it. We met up with Emily,_ ” he gestured over his shoulder at a pair of tan legs behind him, “ _and we drank that special mix. You Know, that one homebrew mix you’d always complain about tasting like cherries. After that… well I’m afraid we both went our separate ways. I’m sorry, ma chère. I wish I remembered more but this last batch must have been stronger than I thought…_ ”

Pashera rolled her shoulder and sighed, “No. It is...fine. I think I have pieced together most of it. Thank you, _Būṛhā ādamī_. I-… I will speak to you another time. _Apna khayal rakhna_.”

 _“Pashera wait,_ ” his eyes were concerned, _“Anderson contacted me. He knew you were lying about how you were feeling. It’s why I came out to find you. I… You know you can visit anytime right? I’m always here. I know you won’t tell me the truth, but… are you ok?_ ”

Pashera looked away from the screen, “German… I…I have a ship to run. We will talk later.”

She flicked the terminal off and sat down.

~~

Wrex listened at the door. People always underestimated krogan hearing. Even over the water, he could hear her soft voice.

The conversation interested him. He only dimly remembered meeting the man called German. The human male had introduced a harsh sweet drink that he’d claimed to have made. It had gone down smoothly but Wrex couldn’t remember past that. It was impressive that a drink could go down like what humans called butter but have a stronger effect than ryncol. Then again, they had been edging towards being fairly drunk before they’d taken to drinking the strange mixture.  

The worry in the male human’s voice could be heard near the end. Wrex tilted his head. Anderson… he’d met Anderson. Good warrior. He’d heard many stories of that human’s accomplishments. Why had he contacted this German? How was this connected?

Sadness. Loneliness. Vulnerability. It tinged her voice when she responded.  Wrex narrowed his eyes. He’d seen flickers of it before. When she thought no one was watching her shoulders would slump and her eyes would lose their luster. She was a warrior through and through, but in the quiet moments he could see her pain. It was something that he related to- in his own quiet moments he often thought on his people and how he couldn’t help them. Now he heard the pain in her voice. He frowned and narrowed his eyes. She was not weak for it. No. It was what drove her but it could also break her. She needed strong people. A warrior could only win so many battles alone.

He turned and resumed his shower.

~~

Pashera stood in the cargo hold of the ship. She’d dressed and left before Wrex had finished his shower. Now she almost wished she’d lingered. Maybe dealing with a krogan who was against interspecies coupling would be better than whatever mess her day was going to be.

In the hold was the stolen food stand.

Honestly, she had no clue what to do with it but she would need to do some damage control and finish running her errands before they left port.  She rubbed over her face with the building stress. The brightly colored sign shimmered in the light. The neon and holograms were still flashing and bright with whatever power source the cart had.

Shit. How was she going to face Anderson?

She looked over the food stand. Meat. Of course it had to be meat.

With another sigh she headed out to try and run whatever errands she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bhāṛa mēṁ jā'ō - Go to hell/fuck  
> Āpasa mēṁ gālī - Damn  
> Būṛhā ādamī - old man  
> Apna khayal rakhna - Take care
> 
> Okay so... this is possibly my favorite chapter out of all the ones I've written. Now, because the next couple of chapters need to be posted in succession there is going to be a fairly large gap before they arrive so I hope this tides you over. Thank you for reading. Thank you so super much for the Kudos. And thank you for the comments. (And super big thanks to my lovely editors.) I hope you all liked this chapter as much as I do. (It feels silly to say that but... I really like this chapter. Writing it was a lot of fun and Rear Admiral Mikhailovich was adjusted to be far more dislikable.)


	13. Cold Shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phrase: A display of coldness or indifference, intended to wound.
> 
> Alternative: 
> 
> Cold (adjective) of or at a low or relatively low temperature, especially when compared with the human body. Or lacking affection or warmth of feeling; unemotional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The next couple chapters may contain possible triggering subjects.

 

 

Several days passed. Her time stolen by smoothing over ruffled feathers and meetings with repeated apologies.

The council was furious.

Udina was near frothing in his anger.

Even Anderson had taken time to lecture and yell.

Never before had she made such a grand series of mistakes. Impassively she would sit through each meeting and then give her apologies afterwards. Never trying to explain or defend her actions- she took the anger directed at her in silent grace. Outside she was a steadfast and stoic soldier. Inside she was in utter and complete turmoil. For several days, she was terrified that they would take the Normandy away from her; though she knew it would have been a deserved response. In preparation for the coming verdict she anticipated, she packed her few personal belongings into her bag and emptied her locker.

When she instead received clearance to leave and a pardon, she’d been surprised and beyond relieved. However, she was sure she would never have the council’s respect, and she hoped that she had not soured their already biased opinion of humans. Without waiting to see if they would change their minds, she had ordered the ship to head out.

When they were finally safely beyond the nearest mass relay and she could finally be sure that they weren’t going to change their mind and recall the ship, she retreated to find a place to work. After some searching, she sat silently on one of the spare seats in the currently empty cockpit. Joker was off-duty asleep—the VI on autopilot to a star system that had requested aid, and Pashera had accidentally scared away the young ensign back-up pilot. When she finally realized that she had the cockpit to herself she’d patched into the sound system and was playing some of her music collection while she gave herself up to staring vacantly out the ship's window. In her hands she held a datapad. The information on it was useless, just a bunch of people all saying the same thing—no one knew where Saren or the Matriarch were.  Unable to sleep, she’d been looking over reports in the hope that she could ‘busy’ the growing depression away, but now she had lapsed into thought and her inner demons were gnawing at her conscious mind as she clutched the useless pad of data.

Her most pressing worry was Wrex, the Krogan mercenary. His strange behavior had only increased since the morning of waking beside her. Guilt ate at her that in their drunken state they may have participated in something he would find reprehensible. Although they had not been working together for very long, she considered him a friend and hated the idea that she may have ruined that friendship with a night of drunken debauchery.

Her hand rubbed absently at her facial scar while she thought. Never before had she slept with someone who was under her command. Although he wasn’t Alliance, and there were no rules against it, she still felt unsure about the ordeal. Leaning her elbow against the chair’s arm rest she sighed. _Had she damaged his opinion of her? Would this become an issue in battle? Would he no longer listen to her commands?_ Her mind was filled with too many questions and no answers.

A thought struck her and she frowned. Wrex hadn’t been the only one who she had noticed odd behavior from. Most of the crew seemed upset with her. Perhaps it was just her mind playing tricks but people seemed to be avoiding her more actively than when they had all called her ‘Butcher’. She bit at the pad of her thumb in frustration—they would be perfectly within their right to be angry, but for once she had felt like she was making friends. Even as the commander of the ship, people had been warming up to her. It had been a pleasant change of pace.

Shuffling footsteps alerted her to Joker’s presence, and she wearily reached to turn off her music.

“It’s fine, Commander,” he said grumpily while settling into his chair, “I don’t mind the music.”

With a slight nod, she retracted her hand and resumed her gaze out the window. The pilot had not been very talkative with her since she had ‘caught’ them watching the live headset feed.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands flicking over the holoscreens as he began his morning routine. The music a pleasant counterpoint to the lingering silence between them.

Hesitantly, she stole a glance at him. A deep scowl creased his face and she felt as if someone was squeezing her throat. Of all the people on the ship- she considered Joker to be a friend. _Had she ruined this friendship as well? Perhaps it was the music…?_ Biting her lip she looked down at her hands and wondered what she could do to repair the damage she’d caused in the lives of her friends and crew.

“Listen, Commander,” he broke the silence as he turned to look at her, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I won’t patch into your vid screen anymore.”

Her eyebrows scrunched in her surprise, “Joker… I was never angry about that. It was humorous. Was that what was bothering you? I thought perhaps I had overstepped my bounds and done something inappropriate when drunk… It seems I did a lot of that…” She trailed off as she looked out the window. After a few minutes she said, “Truly, I never minded, Joker. As my pilot I trust you. I always have.”

She didn’t turn from the window; she couldn’t meet his eyes for what she was going to say next. Fighting past the lump in her throat she spoke softly, “It was… nice. Nice to know I wasn’t alone. … to have a friend watching over me.”  Her eyes flicked to watch his reflection in the window.

His hat hid his face and for once his hands were still.

He shifted before responding, “You consider us friends?”  His voice was gruff and panic began to flood her. Was he angry? Had she been the only one viewing their relationship as friendship? How many people had she misjudged?

She stuttered out an apology as she stood, “I-I am sorry. I apologize for misunderstanding our relationship. P-please excuse me.”  Clutching the datapad tightly, she bolted from the cockpit. Anxiety and sadness made her chest ache as she sprinted away.

~~

The commander’s music still played in the background as Joker sat in stunned silence.

He found he actually liked the music. Instrumental club mixes of old-school earth music. Beats accenting the soft hum of the ship instead of overwhelming it. When making his way up to his chair that morning, he’d been annoyed and a little angry that someone had been brazenly playing music in his cockpit. Those feelings had quickly been replaced by genuine surprise when he saw who was responsible.  He’d never expected the stoic commander to be the culprit.

Now his appreciation for the music was overwhelmed by the stupor she’d left him in.

Clenching and unclenching his hands he frowned down at the holopanel in front of him. To hear the commander say that she not only trusted him but considered him a friend had been a little overwhelming. Few people ever voiced faith in him- let alone thought of him fondly.

Leaning forward in his seat he rubbed a hand over his beard in thought. _How had he misjudged the commander so badly?_ Somehow he’d carried over the assumption that she was cold and creepy- by rumor and reputation. He’d judged her the way so many people judged him and it hurt to realize it. For so long he’d prided himself on watching people. Understanding them. Over the years, it had made him a fairly good judge of character but somehow he’d fallen prey to incorrect assumptions. He’d been so busy seeing the ‘scary’ emotionless mask that she presented that he’d never considered that she was… more. Lately he’d been trying, and she’d seemed to warm to his attempts.

A feeling of incredulity was building.

She said she TRUSTED him.

Always had.

Even though she had turned away from him he’d been able to hear the sincerity in her voice. For the first time since he’d met her- the mask of commander had been taken away. She’d seemed distant and sad while they talked. The last few days hadn’t been easy on her and it was beginning to show. He’d only heard through the rumor mill what had happened but he’d gotten a real kick out of her signing up the entire crew and council for a multi-year subscription of Fornax. The best reactions had been from the xenophobic crew members. He’d really enjoyed watching Pressly sputter and rage. Actually he’s been a little afraid that the XO would have an apoplexy he was fitting so hard. Still, Joker had found it funny… except for the fact that there had been scuttlebutt that the Alliance was considering giving Anderson back the Normandy due to her ‘stunt’.

Joker adjusted his cap and sighed, “…fuck.” The commander looked like she hadn’t slept in days and for once she hadn’t been seen napping in odd places. What were the odds that things were worse and she wasn’t close enough to anyone to ask for help? A high risk with her position.

If anything she needed a friend right now… and he felt like he’d fucked up.

“…fuck,” he sighed again.   

~~

Pashera sat curled on her bed.

Her hand idly clipped and unclipped the small pistol attachment to her omni-tool bracelet.  In N2 training they had all been schooled in small hidden weapons for ‘situational safety’. Once passing the course Anderson had given her the pistol attachment as a congratulatory gift. It matched his own. Over the years she’d modified the weapon to be more covert, and the drilled in reflexes of waking and flicking the gun out at the slightest hint of trouble had yet to fade.

Her aggravation only increased as she re-clipped the pistol again.

Frowning, she glanced at the terminal across the room. Normally in situations like this she would have called her adoptive father, but today she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Never before had she messed up enough for him to actually yell at her. He hadn’t even yelled when she’d tried to make coffee for him once on father’s day. Overfilling the water in the pot and flooding the kitchen with unground beans. But now… she clicked the pistol back into place and sighed.

When he’d yelled he’d voiced being glad she wasn’t an official adoption.

No longer did he want to be her family and honestly she understood. Even she didn’t want to be associated with herself at that moment.

The chirp of her omni-tool alerted her to a new message.

\---===---

\--- **PLAYING TRANSMISSION** \---

_“Shepard, this is Admiral Kahoku. I found out who set the trap that killed my men. The one with the thresher maw. Damn, …I hope you get this message. It was a group called Cerberus. An Alliance black ops organization. Top secret, highest-level security clearance. They vanished early this year. Dropped off the grid. Nobody knew where they went or what they were up to. They’ve gone completely rogue, Shepard. I don’t have any proof, but I found the coordinates for one of their research worlds. I’m uploading them with this message.  Somebody needs to stop Cerberus. I’ve done what I can. Now, it’s up to you. This is… this is probably the last you’ll hear from me. They’re after me now. I need to disappear before they find me.”_

\--- **END TRANSMISSION** \---

\---===---

Worrying at her lip she replayed the message again. She’d heard the name Cerberus before. _Where had she recently seen them mentioned?_ Standing she began to rifle through her desk. Various notes and datapads littered the grey surface and eventually she found what she was looking for.

Her eyes darted as she read over the information she’d absentmindedly copied while in the ruins of the ExoGeni building in Zhu’s Hope. It was habit to collect data while on missions- regardless of current relevance. Now it seems the habit had paid off.  

\---===---

\--- **PRIVATE LOG OF DR. GAMORLE** \---

_“I don’t trust this Cerberus group. They may pay us well, but if this gets out before we’ve developed an antidote… it’s just not smart. They won’t tell us what they want the samples for or why they wanted them delivered to the Matano system. My records show nothing of interest there.”_

\--- **END PRIVATE LOG** \---

\---===---

With a frown she stared at the datapad. There were few things from Zhu’s Hope that could give worthwhile samples and none of them were good. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of what other time she’d heard mention of Cerberus but for once the memories eluded her.

In frustration she dropped the datapad back onto the desk and returned to the bed.

As an Alliance soldier it was grave news that a black ops group had gone rouge and now targeted the ones they had worked with. As a Spectre it was just as worrisome. It could mean that civilians or the council were in danger due to proximity. Would Cerberus target people’s families or officers working on the Citadel? Since the Admiral had asked her to chase down the leads it was vital that she gather more information on the group.

She  sighed. Rubbing a hand over her gritty feeling eyes, her mind picked over the issue like carrion birds over a carcass.

Though humans had not been part of the multi-racial galaxy for very long- the histories had been made available to any who was curious. When she was younger she’d been fascinated with Salarian history; particularly a group that had once existed before the salarians were a part of the council. It was a black ops group known as ‘The League of One’ and they had been similar to the council Spectres- though with more secrecy and assassinations.  When the salarians joined the council, the League had been exposed. Their identities offered up as a ‘show of good faith’ by the top members of the salarian government. The members disappeared without a trace—and months later the Salarian inner cabinet was murdered.

Although she wasn’t aware of any platitudes or open files that would cause the Cerberus group to go rogue, she was aware that something had caused them to revolt. She leaned back with another tired sigh that evolved into a yawn. As if a rogue Spectre wasn’t difficult enough—now she had an entire black ops organization to chase down. She blew out a gust of air in annoyance. On top of the space-cake of life, she still hadn’t convinced anyone that there was a foe coming that they had to prepare for. Whatever these Reapers were, they had killed the Protheans 50,000 years ago and it wasn’t likely that the galaxy would be able to fight back without preparation.

Opening her omni-tool she checked over the coordinates that had been given to her by the worried Admiral Kahoku. Her omni-tool blinked for a moment while it ran the search and then showed her information for a small planet in the Voyager Cluster named Binthu. For a moment she stared up at the info before dropping her arm down to the bed with a grumble. Of course it had to be a planet with acid rain.

Staring at the ceiling, she felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. How could she do this? She was just one soldier and people were asking her to become Hercules to save them all. There was no way she could fight every monster on her own. She had no partial godhood. She had no immortality.  No way for her to bring the souls of the dead back to their broken bodies. Although she probably *would* storm Hades if someone pointed her to the entrance and told her to—she didn’t hold a lot of hope for the results.

Running a hand through her wavy hair she tried to push away the dark thoughts seeping into her head. For the first time in ages she’d neglected to make a timely round of the ship. Although she dreaded walking the halls and seeing people’s faces, she hoped that returning to routine would help shake the looming depression. With a grumble she stood and glanced at the desk. Files were spread out over the flat surface and she grimaced. If there was one thing that she hated, it was messes.

Ignoring the fact that she was going to make her rounds she sat down and began to organize her files. Putting away the ones with old information and neatly stacking the ones with relevant data.

It was a few hours before she stood with a stretch and gave a satisfied nod.

She’d found more references to Cerberus in a few files, but she still wanted more information. Each pile on her desk had a compilation of notes and information on where she should be investigating. Her fingers tapped at the edge of the desk while she tried to remember what she’d been heading off to do before her desk had distracted her.

When she remembered she gave a mental wince.

Rounds.

She had completely forgotten to make the rounds. Pulling on her favorite light jacket she put on a brave face. It wouldn’t do for the crew to see their commander in any weakened state. Her steps were heavy as she forced herself to walk up the stairs to the CIC.

The doors whispered open and a few people gave covert glances as she passed by. Eyes roving over the data of the screens as she walked. Over the years she’d learned how to read the status of the ship by watching the people as much as the information on the screens. Everyone was tense, but she was sure it was not because of the ship- it was because of her. Stopping short of the hall that would lead her to the cockpit she stared and decided that she’d avoid it for now. She was still unsure how to approach Joker after his apparent anger at her suggestion that they were friends.  Plus, she could check all the readings from her terminal in her cabin if she really wanted. She’d always made the rounds for the sake of the crew more than anything else.

Swallowing hard, she turned and walked past a brooding Pressly. He was still angry with her because she’d chastised him and Williams for being xenophobic and rude towards the alien crew members. Honestly they hadn’t been that bad, but the Fornax subscription had been ill received and caused some tension that they’d felt the need to voice. Loudly.

Her nails dug into her palm and she hid her hand in the jacket’s pocket as she walked.

It wasn’t long before her steps carried her back down the stairs to the living section of the ship and she felt herself looking longingly towards the cabin. The desire to just lay down and try to sleep away her problems was overwhelming. She knew it wouldn’t work. Early when her family had been killed she’d slept a lot. Though she feared the nightmares—it had been the only way she could see her family again. She also hadn’t wanted to get out of bed and sleeping had just been easier than fighting the emotional exhaustion of depression.

Stepping into the med bay she looked towards Karin’s desk. The doctor looked up at her with an icy expression, “Commander, even as a joke between friends. I think you might be pushing things with a five year subscription of Fornax.”

Pashera felt the panic rising in her throat and she backed slowly out of the doorway.

~~

Alenko was sitting at the dining table with Williams and a few other crew members.

It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that the commander was making her rounds late for the first time since taking command of the ship several months ago. Normally the woman was as punctual as a damn citadel clock. Even her naps didn’t seem to keep her from the punctual ship evaluation, and rarely was she on a mission during the normal hour that she’d stalk round the ship.

With a slight tilt to his head he watched as she walked into the Med bay and then immediately backed out. Her normally impassive face was crumpled in a mixture of terror and pain. The commander quickly turned and fled towards the elevator as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.

Curious, Alenko looked back towards the med bay doors.

“What was that all about?” Williams asked while taking a bite out of her sandwich. The commander had ordered a multitude of new packaged fair for them. There was even some chocolate and various other treats. She didn’t really hold to the ration quantities for her crew as long as people made a report when they started running low. It was a nice change of pace and the new foods were even better. Everyone had been thrilled over the meat cart in the hold and they were still making sandwiches from the meat in an attempt to use it all before it went bad. Thank god the cart had internal refrigeration.

Alenko shook his head, “Got me.”

It was a few minutes before the doctor walked out of the medbay for dinner. Although she didn’t spend all her time in the medbay she’d been known to hide in there to watch movies. Alenko had caught her once but she’d made him promise to keep it a secret.

When the doctor sat down beside them she looked pensive as she ate a meaty sandwich herself.

“Hey doc. What was all that about?” Engineer Adams asked from across the table.

Williams nodded.

Chakwas looked at them, “All * _what_ * about, Adams?”

He gestures with his fork as he replied, “The commander. I’ve never seen her look terrified of anything. What’d you do?”

Chakwas frowned down at her food, “I’m not sure. It shouldn’t have provoked *that* reaction though. I was simply joking with her.”

After taking a drink of water Williams interjected, “Yeah but what’d you say?”

Chakwas sighed, “I told her that even though we are friends and it was a humorous joke—a subscription to Fornax was a little much.”

Alenko’s brows scrunched together. That didn’t seem like something that would give the commander that panicked expression. For the past few days she’d been too busy to practice biotics with him but he could also see the dark circles around her eyes and signs of stress. He stared at his food for a while before deciding that she didn’t need him butting into her life. She was his commander first and foremost- he shouldn’t try to make things awkward by making it seems like more. He liked her, might even have asked her for a date if he wasn’t his superior but… as it was- that was a dangerous line of thought and risky to boot.  He heaved a sigh and returned to his lunch and reading an article in Biotics Weekly.

 

~~

 

Pashera stepped out of the elevator and looked around the cargo hold.

The long elevator ride had given her a chance to recompose herself but she was unsure if she truly could push herself much farther. The idea of facing more people filled her with an unnamable fear that she couldn't seem to shake. Honestly, at that moment she felt like she’d rather face down a thresher maw on foot with only her biotics than try to talk to people.  

Stepping out slowly her eyes fell to Garrus. The turian lay on his back under the mako—once again tinkering for improvements and repairs. There was scarcely a time when he didn’t have some sort of project to keep him occupied. He seemed to enjoy busywork more than the average soldier and she sometimes found herself wishing more of her Alliance crew took the sort of initiative that the ex-C-sec officer took. He regularly made improvements to the crew’s guns and he was always helping out around the ship. She took a hesitant step forward to see if he wanted help when her mind began to clamor.

He was always busy and although he’d never seemed to have an issue with her ‘help’ he’d never requested it. _Was he simply putting up with her for the sake of it all? Was it simply because he didn’t want to seem rude on ‘her’ ship?_ Her mind wandered back to what he’d said after the mission with Major Kyle and she wondered how much of it had been a platitude to get her back on her feet.

She bit her lip and looked to the hulking red figure in the far corner. Wrex sat with his gun disassembled as he polished and repainted it. She didn’t dare approach him—Aside from not knowing what to say, he’d made it a point to leave any room she entered. Slowly she edged backwards into the elevator.

There was no point disturbing the quiet of the cargo hold.

~~~

The next few weeks crept by.

Pashera kept herself busy with organizing reports and hunting for information on Cerberus, Saren, and the Matriarch. For the first week she tried to continue pushing herself to make rounds and leave her cabin. Biotic practice went poorly when she tried—and she began to avoid the cargo hold. Wrex had pointedly avoided her to the point she would sometimes wonder if he would airlock himself just to get away from her.

She’d begun to claim she was busy when Alenko or Liara would ask if she wanted to train.

Soon her avoidance grew to the point that she wouldn’t leave her cabin unless it was to go on a surface mission. Interacting with her crew slowly dimmed as she pulled away. Burying herself in reports and work. It was similar to how she’d lost herself after Torfan. Though she longed to sleep, her nightmares slowly began to get worse. What was once a weekly occurrence had returned to being a nightly one. Her music played at all hours in a vain hope to keep the silence from overwhelming her and her hands always seemed to shake.

If the team left on a mission she would take the opportunity to grab a nutrient bar on her way back to the cabin, but her avoidance of the crew meant most of the time she snuck nutrient pills and avoided eating. She knew it wasn’t good for her biotics but having trouble with raising a shield and near constant headaches were preferable at that point to facing the people on the ship. Her cabin had more than enough room for her to exercise and whatever hours were not spent going over reports or fitfully sleeping—were spent doing pattern dances and shadowboxing.

Weeks crept to a full month.

The indicator that someone was patched into her visor view-cam no longer lit and the realization squeezed at her chest like a cold hand.

_Alone_.

_No friends._

_No family._

Each night that she would wake from a nightmare, she would sit in front of the terminal and consider calling Anderson. He’d sent a few messages over the weeks but she couldn’t bring herself to open them. It was one of those evenings that she sat dully staring at the terminal when Joker’s voice came over the comm, _“Commander, we’re fifteen minutes from Mavigon.”_

She took a deep breath before answering, “Thank you, Joker. Please notify the squad that this is a cold planet and if they would like to opt out they may. There will be no briefing.” They’d been following reports of a crime lord hiding in the area. She was sure her team knew the details by now and she hopped that this would be the time that they finally caught him.

“ _Yes, Commander._ ”

Standing she pulled on her armor and took an energy pill. Since her last trip to the citadel had ended so spectacularly, she had forgotten to get more tea for her cabin and had run out. Her hand clenched as the pill made her implant burn like a hot poker to the skull. Quickly wiping away the tears she locked on her helmet and pulled the tinting shut so that people couldn’t see her face. As much as she hated hearing her own breath, she’d found she could function better if her face was covered. It was a small thing, but if it made her able to function for a short while, then she would accept it.

Closing her eyes she leaned against the door to her cabin.

It was only a few steps to leave her room, but it seemed to take more and more strength each time. She bit her lip and reached a shaking hand out to press the button that would open the door. After a few seconds of shaking and hovering, she rolled her shoulders back, hit the button, and marched out towards the elevator.

~~

Pashera sat behind the wheel of the Mako.  Only three of her squad had come. Most of the Mako missions meant a lot of sitting around waiting to switch with someone for the guns or shield monitors and Garrus had complained loudly about cold weather in the past. Alenko had been down with a bad migraine so it was unsurprising that he’d decided to opt out. Liara had backed out gracefully saying that she needed to catch up on her reports on Prothean ruins they’d visited.  All that left her was Ashley, Wrex, and Tali.

Hands curled to grip more tightly at the wheel as Pashera prayed no one would speak. She already felt like she was at the breaking point. A rubber band stretched too far- she didn’t need someone commenting on her behavior.

No one did.

As they passed over the drop point she revved the engines and gunned the mako out of the cargo hold. Once they were in free-fall she engaged the thrusters to slow their descent and flicked on the mass effect dampeners. When they landed it felt like little more than a gentle jolt.

The world turned into a snowy white blur as she floored the accelerator. Sending the mako flying at top speeds towards where the small indicator flashed their objective.

A steep cliff.

Pashera didn’t slow- the only way to the top was to just ‘punch it’ and hope they reached it.

They crested the ridge like a fat bird on an updraft, and the mako slammed into one of the turrets. Wrex was at the guns and firing at the other two turrets before their programming could register what had happened. Then they were out of the mako and sprinting. Tali made short work of hacking the door and they were in. They were making fast progress through the thugs. Efficient and well-practiced; her team fell into a sort of rhythm as they fought.  

Her eyes caught sight of the crime lord. She’d been sent files containing their picture. As he stepped out from behind the crates, her eyes snapped to the custom twin rocket launcher in his hands and her world slowed to a crawl.  Her gaze slid to where her team stood. Wrex was using biotics to toss up thugs for Williams to splatter with her shotgun while Tali dodged around them and threw grenades. None of them could see the danger from their angle.

Pashera’s head whipped back towards the crime boss and her hand flicked out to raise a shield over her team; but they were too far for it to include her too. The first rocket hit the shield protecting the squad like a gong and turned the crew into a smoky blur. The second rocket blazed towards her and she stood motionless as it hit her in the chest. The explosion ripped through her suit’s shields and she could feel her armour melting to her skin as the flames heated the suit.

She knew she screamed.

Anyone would have screamed.

The blast threw her back and she hit the far wall with a crunch that echoed in her ears. The world turned a muddy grey. There was nothing but burning and pain as she lay still and faded from consciousness.

~~

Wrex knew he should have spoken with Shepard. He’d taken advantage of the extra time at the Citadel to purchase her a proper gift. However, he’d ended up being too embarrassed to actually give it to her. To make matters worse he’d begun to act like a fledgling and started avoiding her.

Nearly a thousand years old and he- a krogan battlemaster- was hiding from a woman.

Of course she wasn’t just any woman. She was a fierce warrior. A battlemaster in her own right. And after some thought he’d decided that since she might need someone in those quiet hours- he wanted to offer himself up for that. A warrior like her deserved that sort of respect and he couldn’t say he wasn’t interested. More than once he’d had to catch himself when mildly lustful thoughts started plaguing his mind. He told himself that he would present his gift soon. Permanent bonding or not- he wanted to be with her again.

He’d decided that next time they sparred he would ask her- stupid, foolish courage puffing him up. But he’d avoided her for so long that she stopped coming to the cargo hold. He knew it was because of him. He’d fled the room like a terrified pyjak when faced with the prospect of what he was thinking of doing. She’d taken notice and begun avoiding the area for his sake. He’d never felt more ashamed.

Then rumor that she’d been acting strange began to trickle down. He listened to the engineering crew talk. He listened to the warrior Williams talk with the annoyingly cheerful biotic Alenko. He’d listened to the doctor speaking idly with the pilot during one of his checkups. Wrex was very good at listening though most of the time he didn’t like to. However- you didn’t live as long as he had without listening.

All of what he’d heard was not good.

She wasn’t eating. She rarely left her room. No longer would she roam the ship or practice biotics.

On missions he noticed that the flower scent was nearly gone. Her armor started to look loose on her. Words were clipped and never more than a few. During battle she fought with her usual cold precision but something seemed off; her movements were slower- sluggish. Once, he was almost sure he’d seen her struggle to aim with a shaking hand.

He worried for her.

Had he caused this?

He was old enough to remember a time when Krogan still occasionally paired for love. The practice had faded once the genophage had reduced their numbers enough. Love turned to desperation and pairings were now  only by breeding request. Mating was a polite ritual and females were guarded ferociously. Lust. There was always lust but rarely love. Not between krogan. Not anymore.

Wrex felt like it might be love though. He wasn't sure. Couldn’t be sure yet. Certainly a protective attachment. It didn’t stop him from wanting to tell her how he felt.  That she made it seems like things were worth fighting for. That she gave him hope- something he hadn’t had in hundreds of years. That he relished battling by her side and after every battle he wanted to hold her in his arms and laugh. Or fuck. Or both. She made him hungry for life again. Made him want to live.

But...a nagging feeling of doubt ate at him. Perhaps she did not feel the same? Or maybe all her behavior was his fault? He wasn’t sure if humans could become ill from being separated from a bonded mate. He’d seen it happen with pitt varren when they lost their handler. The varren would pine or become too ferocious to be handled and usually need to be put down. Not that he thought her to be a varren, but it seemed a possible explanation. He still remembered the morning after their… night together. He’d listened to her dress and leave while he showered and a part of him had been thankful. A fear had been eating at him that she still might intend to kill him. He also had not wanted to deal with the problem at that moment.

When he’d come out of the shower to find his armour neatly folded on the table he’d felt wistful and sad though. Pfah, a krogan wistful and sad. This human was making him mushy. …he thought that maybe he could be mushy for her though. She’d taken the time to fold his armour with care- he could definitely be mushy for her. Or hard. He could be either one. He supposed it would depend on the mood.

On the mission to the ice planet he decided he would catch her once they returned to the ship. He would ask her. For most of the mission he was distracted. Watching over her as she fought her way through the hired goons who threw themselves at the squad like cannon fodder. He’d been so distracted with keeping an eye on her that he’d missed the bastard with the rocket launcher. Through her helmet he could just slightly see her eyes widen as she threw a hand out and a shield raised around the group just in time to stop the rocket that would have hit them. The world was tinted a bright blue as he watched. Heard the agonized scream. The sound of her body hitting the wall.

She was too still.

Far too still.

With a roar, Wrex charged the bastard with the rocket launcher. It was only with a dim awareness that he knew Tali ran to Shepard’s still figure and Williams redoubled her efforts to finish off the last of the thugs.  When he finished pulverizing his target he turned and made his way back to where Tali knelt. Her omni-tool open as she ran a scan.

She tapped her comm, “Normandy! We need and evac team. The commander is down!” Her high pitched slur annoyed him. He’d taken a liking to the small quarian though. She was pretty fierce herself and he felt like the endearing uncle. On quiet evenings he’d spent time teaching her tricks with the shotgun to help during a fight. In return she’d taught him small hacking tricks. He wasn’t very good at them but he tried anyhow. However, he didn’t care for her voice at this moment. He didn’t care for anything but the far too still form of Shepard. He bent and picked up the body. She was lighter than he remembered. Much lighter. The corners of his mouth pulled into a frown as he stood.

A hand touched his arm, “Wait Wrex.” Tali spoke quickly, “Her helmet is cracked. Her suit is completely fried. She can’t leave the building- she’ll die of exposure and lack of oxygen if she doesn’t bleed out here first. We *NEED* to get her stable.” The small quarian moved to block his way.

He growled.

She was right though. He knew that. Legs bending, he sat heavily but did not relinquish the still form that was now slowly dripping blood over his armour. The armour she’d purchased as a surprise. He’d agreed with the others not to say anything but a part of him nagged for not expressing his gratitude. It had been years since he’d bothered to upgrade his armour and she must have spent a fortune to refit the entire team like that. Everyone knew that the Alliance and Council didn’t pay nearly enough for her to get top of the line items the way she did. It had all been out of pocket. Should have thanked her.

Tali stepped forward and resumed trying to take scans of the commander. Occasionally she would reach out and dab some medi-gel on a spot. Williams was at the doorway and radioing the situation. Wrex watched when Tali finally reached to remove the cracked helmet. The small gasp she made was barely audible but he heard it. He heard it and he knew why. Even through the blood and burns he could see that the commander had lost weight in her face and dark circles had formed around her eyes. She looked half dead already.

His mind raced. Her condition worried him. He should have spoken with her sooner. Stupid, stupid krogan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry my dears! I know this chapter was a long time coming but there were two deaths in the family and although it was finished I just didn't have the energy to post it. I'm terribly sorry. Hopefully things will resume a more normal schedule from here forwards. I hope you all had lovely holidays. Big thanks to my wonderful editors, without their help I'm fairly sure there would be a lot of confusing mistakes. ♥
> 
> (also, I'm so very sorry that this chapter may have been kinda sad after the high the last one left you on.)


	14. Lost To Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Authors note: Tried something a little different with this chapter. I REALLY wanted to show both perspectives. I hope it's not too boring or confusing! ))

 

The group was tense.

Beyond tense.

As soon as the commander’s body was aboard the ship they had pulled away from the horrible icy planet and left for the citadel. Chakwas was a great doctor, but there were some things that even she couldn’t fix alone. Everyone was lost in wondering what had happened. Everyone was lost in their own private guilt.

 

Garrus sat taking apart his gun at the end of the dining table. Over and over he would assemble and disassemble the pieces. Cleaning them though there wasn’t a speck on them. He hated being a thinker. Though he kept his hands busy, he couldn’t help but think while he worked. Mulling over how he hadn’t seen that she’d needed it. Sure, she hadn’t shown up drunk on a mission but there were signs. Any investigator with half a brain should have seen the signs. He should have brought her a drink. Made her laugh. Told her a story. Anything. He liked her. It was mainly as a friend, but sometimes he wondered how different things would be if she was turian. The personality was fierce enough certainly. He’d always had a weak spot for females that could match him in the sparring ring- and shepard didn’t just match him, she was better. She deserved better. He wasn’t really one of those turians with a human fetish but he liked HER. The fact that within a few days of his telling her- she helped chase down one of his greatest regrets. He had always looked forward to when she would keep him company when he was tinkering. She would hand him whatever he needed. Sometimes she would be reading something. Other times she would just chat. He should have realized that her visits had stopped. How had he not realized? Should've realized that she needed back-up. Everyone needs backup in their quiet hours at one time or another.

 

Tali sat shifting nervously. She’d taken to sitting next to the doors of the med bay to hear if there was any changes. Her audio receptors turned up higher than normal to listen for hints. Sometimes she would stand and pace in the small area in front of the lockers. Sometimes she would sit and try to work on one of her program projects, but her mind wasn’t on it and eventually the code would turn into a useless string of quarian curses. Of all people, Pashera had trusted her from the start. Saved her. Believed her. Welcomed her.  Offered up friendship before the quarian had even stepped foot in the ship. When they had found information on the Geth during a mission- Pashera had turned and immediately offered it to Tali for her pilgrimage. A kind gesture from a kind person. Tali had never been so thankful for being able to work with someone who cared so much. Yet she had failed this person. Let her friend pull away and didn’t do anything to stop it. Tali curled on the ground against the door and pressed her hands to her faceplate. She should have  done something, right? Should have been better at fighting. Should have noticed that Pashera needed help beyond battles and hacking. Should have NOTICED.

 

Alenko ignored the throb of his migraine. He was fairly sure he deserved it. After standing and pacing in front of the med bay and tripping over Tali repeatedly he’d retreated across the way to sulk near the commander’s cabin door. Sitting down he played an old puzzle game that he used to hate. Still hated it, really. It had been punishment back at ‘brain camp’. It was his way of lashing out at himself because he didn’t know what else to do. The pieces would drop and fall in a heap on the floor every time he heard the whispering woosh of a door opening. It was never the right door though. He sighed and started working on the puzzle again though it was hard to concentrate past the nauseating pulse of pain in his head. The commander had always been nice to him. Fair. Honest. It should have been a simple routine mission and he should have gone. Put up a barrier so she didn’t have to. Protected her. She was so fierce and smart. Reminded him of a girl he’d liked once. He wasn’t sure he wanted that sort of relationship with the commander though. Friends maybe. Thought they were friends at least. Friends help each other. Protect each other.

 

Williams pounded at the punch bag down in the hold. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Memory. Each hit she landed was harder than the last. She felt guilt for how she’d treated the commander in the past. It was a stupid sort of easy to forget that ‘fearless leaders’ were human. Far too easy. The commander had always taken time to talk. They talked about Williams family. Her sisters. Williams couldn’t imagine losing her sisters the way the commander had. The commander had always listened though. When she learned about how William’s grandfather was in Shanxi she hadn’t even batted an eye. Not like other commanders in the past. Williams had asked her about it, “ _People, circumstances, and actions are all different, Chief. If someone makes a bad call it does not make them a bad person. It just makes it a bad call. If someone is given shit circumstances it does not make that person shit. In the end it is the person that matters. I do not know your grandfather but I know you, and so far… you are a good person and a great soldier_.” Williams had been stunned. She’d never met anyone with that kind of view. Yeah the Commander was strange but… she actually had faith in Williams. Williams blinked back angry tears. Warriors don’t cry. This wasn’t a coward heart. However, a piece of her felt like she’d abandoned the commander the same way she felt like she abandoned the 212. She punched the bag harder.

 

Liara sat quietly reading a manuscript of a faraway Prothean dig. She’d read the same paragraph over and over and none of it actually had stuck. She’d tried to hard to be a friend. For so long all she’d cared about was her studies- but now she cared about more. Learned more. Learned to be around people and see them as people.  She liked the commander. In the dead of night she might have even fantasized a little. True, when she’d first met ‘the commander’ it had been terrifying. Pashera had stood over her with those pa’tasy flower blue eyes and that gun pointed into Liara’s face. In that moment she was almost sure she was going to die. It had been terrifying. Like an asari justicar. A legend. But then Liara had joined the crew. Saw the soft side of the terrifying warrior woman. The side that Pashera hid. Learned that she was kind, smart, and caring. When they had worked together on trying to untangle the beacon, Liara had felt like she was trying to grab onto the hands of the goddess herself. It had caused headaches but she didn’t care. Every minute spent was worth it. There was so much brightness in Pashera… and now it lay dimming on a medical bed. Liara hadn’t said it but she hadn’t felt experienced enough to go down to the surface with the team. She’d opted out with a polite excuse because she was afraid she’d mess up. But… would things have been different if she’d been there? Could she had helped? Raise a shield. Shot a gun. Something.

 

Wrex was brooding. Joker’s word for it anyhow. Wrex would say he was angry. He was typically angry. Angry at the genophage. Angry at the turians. Angry at the salarians. Angry at tuchanka and his people for giving up. Angry at everything. But now… he was angry with himself. A part of him felt that her condition was solely due to his actions. He didn’t think anyone knew what had occurred between them. He should have spoken to her. Should have. Could have. Didn’t.  Couldn’t. Might never get the chance. …Stupid, stupid krogan.

 

Joker sat quietly in the cockpit of the ship. He calculated and recalculated their route but no matter what, he couldn’t get them there any faster. He should have said something. Cracked a joke. Anything.  She’d said she trusted him, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to patch into her feed since then. Probably for the best. Williams had described her scream when she was hit.  It hadn’t been a good sound. Even Wrex had seemed shaken- what the hell scares a krogan? He calculated the route again and for once he hated the quiet. He turned on the music she’d left patched in and fervently hoped that everything would be ok. Everything would be ok. It had to be. She’s Commander freaking Shepard- she would be okay. She had to be.

 

~~~

 

Medication could not fully block the pain.

When Pashera woke it was like paddling through a thick gel of hazy consciousness and pain. Too much pain. Everything hurt. Opening gummed up eyes, her mind began to register that a breathing mask was over her face.

Panic.

_No. Not again_.

She couldn’t move though. Couldn’t take it off. _Please take it off._

Anderson’s face came into view. Blurry in one eye. Her vision worse now without the visor. Her eyes locked with his.

_HELP ME._

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Just that horrible sound as the mask hissed air. _Please take it off_.

Anderson brushed his hand over her forehead as he spoke, “Kid, you gotta stay calm. I know you don’t like the mask but you have to stay calm. You were roughed up pretty bad. Punctured lung. Until it heals you need to wear the mask and stay still. The anesthetics from the surgery are why you can’t move. It will be okay.” His voice was far away. Like hearing through a pane of glass. Or  pillows stacked to suffocating heights.

Suffocating.

A distant part of her understood. Would have stayed calm. But that part was too far away. Now her only thoughts were a constant pleading. _Please take it off._ It was all she could think. _Please, please, take it off . Take it off. Please. Pleasepleasepleasetakeitoff_. Tears slid down into her hair as she silently begged. Eyes pleading what he already knew.

“Pash,” Anderson’s hand stroked her hair. It was similar to just after her parents had died. His whispers were calm and almost soothing, “kiddo, you need to calm down.  They can’t take off the mask. They’re going to give you a sedative. You’re going to sleep for a while to help heal. When you wake up- I’ll be here. It’s going to be okay.”  He would have made a great father. He _was_ a great father. The calming tone almost made it through the haze of panic and pleading.

The air felt different. Stung. Hurt the breathe. The sedative must have been pumped through the mask.

Fading.

Dark.

When she next awakes she thinks it might be a different room.  The lighting is different anyhow. Big window. Fake citadel sky. Her hand twitches. The mask is still on her face. The signal to move her arm does nothing. Eyes dart around the room as she starts to wake more. Anderson is not there. Instead it is Liara. Sweet gentle Liara. She’s in a simple business-like suit. A peep of yellow at the edges. She would look good in yellow. That pretty pale yellow. If only it wasn’t marred by the mask. HISSS HISSS. The air presses in. Suffocating but not. She would give anything to have them take away the mask. _Please take it off_.

The clatter of a datapad being dropped. Liara has noticed that she is awake.

Panic is fuzzy. Mean. Vicious.

The animal that can’t be fought.

Liara took her hand, “Pashera? Oh, please don’t cry. Uhm. They said you would have an issue but you have to leave it on until your lung heals and I’m afraid… well you won’t be able to move for a few days. They found an injury to your spine and it’s not done repairing.”

Panic makes her breaths short and the pain comes back.

A salarian nurse enters and taps something on the nearby monitor while muttering to himself.

Once again the air burns and her world blurs. Darkens but it doesn’t seem like long before she’s waking up again.

 

~~

 

Anderson sat at his desk.

He’d known that Pashera was not alright after she rushed to help the girl from her old colony. She rarely cried in front of people. He’d learned early on how to listen to her moods. For the first few months none of the surgeries had worked to give her back her voice. He’d soon learned that she would hide while crying. Didn’t want to bother people with it.  He’d find her and pull her into his lap anyhow. Thin shoulders would shake and bruises would dot her arms where she would bite herself. She’d been sixteen but still very much a young girl. Too young. Far, far too young for the trauma. Even though he’d been thrown into being  father he’d done all he could.

When she’d gone on her recent drunken spree of antics on the citadel he’d been beyond surprised. In the 14 years he’d known her- she’d never done something so reckless or irresponsible. He’d acted as a commander first. Chastised her thoroughly. Perhaps more than necessary but the backlash was enormous. When he was done yelling he’d sat down tiredly and spoken more like a father, “ _Thank god you aren’t an official adoption. I wouldn’t be able to help with this mess if they knew we were family. They’d assign some ass like Mikhal-o-bitchy to clean this up. Geez, kiddo. You never do anything halfway._ ”  She’d taken his words with a stoic expression and backed out of the room quietly. Not even cracking a smile at his joke over the admiral’s name. He should have seen then that something was wrong. She only ever got that blank look when something was wrong.

But he’d been distracted.

Spectre or no- there were a few things that she’d done to push the boundaries of what she could get away with. Anderson had sat through hours of Udina’s raging. Alliance meetings threatening to take back the Normandy. Council meetings where they considered revoking her Spectre status. Eventually he’d been able to talk them down. None of it had really been more than harmless pranks afterall. True it was a poor idea to pull those sorts of pranks when you were in a public position but regardless- they had been harmless and only select people knew who the culprit was.

He stood and paced.

She was always punctual with reports. Personal messages took secondary, but she’d usually call once a week. It was almost predictable as long as a mission didn’t get in the way. He’d been worried when he didn’t receive any calls or messages back from her but since she sent in mission reports- he assumed she was just too busy. Chakwas had filled him in a week before she was injured. Not eating. Not sleeping. Always working. Never talking to people. It was a relapse. The aftermath of Torfan all over again. She would bury herself in work. Loose herself and escape into training,  reports, and digging for information.

He stared leaned onto the railing of the office balcony. View of the artificial lake and the parks.

It was a mystery to him as to why he had bonded with the girl. From the moment he’d found her bleeding on the ground of Mindoir he’d watched over her. It had triggered something in him. But now she was out on her own. Away from where he could help beyond pushing papers to speed her progress. She might not be his child by blood but DAMNIT he felt like shit for not being able to protect her.

Sighing, he punched half-heartedly at the rail.

He didn’t want a desk job. Wanted to be out there- fighting. But she needed him where he was. A place that he could shout the warning and make a difference. Bracing himself on the railing he heaved another angry sigh. Nothing had hurt more than seeing her wake with the breathing mask on. It had been hours of surgery before they’d let him see her. He knew how much she would panic when she woke with the mask.  He remembered how many nightmares she’d had. Hell, she almost failed basic suit training because she couldn’t take wearing the helmet. She’d practiced in private- wearing the helmet in her off hours to break the fear. Facing it. A lot of those evenings she’d call him crying. Struggling.

Seeing her cry had always broke his heart. She had never asked for any of this. Just stood up and fought back when her life fell to pieces. Another halfhearted punch at the rail. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved what she went through.

He’d spent months learning sign language. Communicating with the datapad had made her angry and frustrated and the rare moments that she would smile where when he made his terrible attempts at sign language or baking. Silent laughter when he’d mess up. Patent slow movements to show him a new word or help him with a recipe. He glanced down at his omni-tool. Since her injury he’d asked to be kept posted on her progress. It had been a week. He hadn’t been able to stay-- though he had tried. She’d been in an induced coma to help speed  her recovery.

No news.

~~

Same room. Same window. Same fake sky. No mask.

She is fine. Her throat is raw and dry, but the hiss of air is gone. The pressure around her nose and chin is only a lingering memory. With an aching slowness she turns her head and stares out the window. Anything is better than the mask. That hated contraption.

A tapping sound nearby gets her attention, and she turns to look. The salarian nurse she’d seen earlier is in the room with her. Hands flick over buttons as he checks her monitor. Large eyes glance at her briefly before he leaves to check on someone else. She turns back to the window.

Alone.

Alone is fine.

It means she doesn’t have to face people. Try to speak. Try to apologise. Alone is fine. The Jalimine Pigeons waddle along the edge of the window. Small bodies, vicious beaks, and a fringe to make a turian jealous. Even through the window tinting she could see the various colors. Bright blues and greens. She’d always liked the birds. Books on earth had shown a tiny bird known as a Humming bird. Jalimine Pigeons always reminded her of them with the coloring. Tiny little rainbows with wings.

Her eyes drifted closed. Sleep would be nice. Or death. Death would be okay. No people to face. No Reapers. No fighting.  No council or people counting on her. No Saren. …Death would be okay, but she knew she wasn’t really willing to give up. To leave people. To take away hope or leave a job half done. So she would settle for sleep.

Now she dreams. Nightmares. Fears and memories twisted into an ugly thing. Mindoir. Torfan. Eden Prime. Every mission, every moment of fear that would twist her gut. It was inescapable. The reapers were coming and it was all inescapable.

~~

 

No voice.

It wasn’t the first time.

Probably wouldn’t be the last.

Pashera sat gesturing halfheartedly. Wrex had his back to her and he was grumbling under his breath. Her silent replies were lost on him even if he had seen them. Other races didn’t speak sign language and it wasn’t even common among humans. Unlike the colored flickers of speech the hanar used, the hand signals could not be translated with an omni either. More-so since it wasn’t a common language. It wouldn’t have mattered though, Pashera’s omni-tool had been mostly destroyed by the blast. Everything was destroyed. Armour. Gun. Body.

At the moment she was thankful that the bed was at least sitting upright enough for her to reach the button that would call her favorite salarian male nurse. Over the few days she’d been awake he’d taken time to learn some sign language. For the most part she liked him even if he was brisk in his treatments. When he came in she quickly started signing her apology and then making the motion of a datapad. The flicker of a smile crossed over the salarian’s face as he grabbed one from a nearby shelf, handed it to her, and disappeared back out the door.

Her fingers tapped gently at the screen.

-====-  
**Wrex, will you please stop grumbling? I have apologized repeatedly, but I made a decision in battle and I would make it again. Survival is important, but so is fighting with a purpose. My purpose is my crew. I battle for everyone. I’m happy to put others before myself.**

**I’m sorry about what happened when we got drunk. I didn’t know you were so against interspecies coupling- it won’t happen again and if you want to leave the Normandy, I understand. But you ARE a valuable member of the crew and I will not make you leave.** **  
** -====-

 

When she finished she tossed the datapad at him. It hit the back of his hump and bounced off to land with a clatter on the floor. Red eyes regarded her in a glare when he turned around, and she pointed down at the datapad before signing that he should read it. A useless gesture but she tried anyhow.

After a few more seconds of glaring he bent to pick it up. His eyes glanced at it and his mouth began to turn downwards in a frown as his translator changed the words.

“You cannot say this to me yourself?” He spoke in a soft growl.

In frustration she threw her hands in the air before lifting her chin and pointing to the old and new scars that lined her neck. She then gestured for him to return the datapad. When he finally handed it over she typed as fast as her stiff fingers would allow.

**-====-** ****  
**Old injury re-damaged by accident. No voice. You don’t listen to the words from my hands so I had to resort to this.** **  
** **-====-**

The frown he wore only increased as he read.  Slowly, she once more signed an apology- her fist making a small circle on her chest.  He watched solemnly this time.

He grumbled under his breath before turning away from her and saying, “I never wanted to leave. Didn’t have a problem with the night- only problem I might have had… is that I think I didn’t follow the proper rituals.” He turned and placed a small parcel on her lap.

She raised a pointer finger to her temple and then brought to down to her other hand. She curled her hands like claws and made opposing circular motions. He handed her back the datapad.

**-====-** ****  
**Sorry, I said I was confused. I do not understand.** **  
** **-====-**

He snorted, “Shepard, you are making this difficult.”

She smiled slowly. The smallest flicker of happiness in weeks. She made a clenching motion with her hand near her collarbone with a sly look.

“Was that another word?”

She flicked her closed fist like a nod and he grumbled, “Why can’t you just use the datapad?”

She pulled the pad over to herself and typed.

**-====-** ****  
**Because. It’s been a long time since I signed to someone and it was fun seeing you confused.** ****  
**As for what I said. I asked if you were embarrassed.** ****  
**Embarrassed of me? To like me? To be here? At our time together?** **  
** **-====-**

He blanched, “All that in one sign?”

**-====-** ****  
**No. Just afterthoughts.** **  
** **-====-**

He reached and pulled over a nearby chair and sat.

“I’m not.”

She tilted her head and waited for him to continue. His red eyes glared at her. She huffed and typed on the datapad when he stayed quiet.

**-====-** ****  
**That is not a sufficient answer. I need you to explain.** **  
** **-====-**

He grumbled and looked away.

**-====-** ****  
**Please?** **  
** **-====-**

she tapped his arm and shoved her plea at him.

“FINE!” His shout startled several people in the hall and they earned several shushes by angry doctors and nurses.

He glared at them and waited till they left before continuing, “I would like to properly woo you. I am not used to this. I am not embarrassed of you, of what we did, or to like you. You are a fierce warrior and any krogan should be flattered you would consider them worthy of your bed.”

Pashera leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. This was unexpected. She did not mind it now that she thought about it but it was definitely unexpected. It had been a long time since she’d even considered a relationship. The Alliance had kept her busy and after Torfan and divorcing German… she’d been too broken to want to be with anyone. It was undeniable that she liked Wrex. Actually, she felt a certain attraction to a great many people on the ship but she had never expected the feelings to be returned.

His hand slowly lifted hers from her lap, “Shepard. Do you consider me worthy of your affections?”

She smiled at him and typed slowly on the datapad.

-====-  
**Beyond a doubt. But I have conditions.** **  
** -====-

“Name them.”

**-====-** **  
** **I follow my old colony’s belief in polyamorous relationships.  I must be allowed to pursue others- but this would not diminish my care for you.**

**Our relationship must not affect how we battle. You are not to disobey me on the field.**

**And** **  
** **-====-**

She leaned her head back in thought. She was beginning to feel worn out and tired and she was struggling to think.

“And?”

Her eyes fluttered back open. She hadn’t realized she had closed them.

-====-  
**Sorry. I am having trouble remembering what I was going to say.  I’m feeling a little dizzy.**

**I think I meant to add that I would like to take things slow. The bruises on my hips took a long time to heal last time.**   
-====-

He blew air in the krogan equivalent of a snort.

“Alright. I do not enjoy the idea of sharing you but I will respect that. Krogan females breed with other males. I suppose this would be no different.  As my battlemaster I will follow your orders,” His hand absently rubbed over hers, “and unless you ask it of me- I will never harm you. We may go as slow as you like.”

She gave and nod and struggled to sit up more. She gave a silent gasp of pain, and he stood with a look of alarm. He was far gentler than she had ever expected as he tried to figure out what she was doing. Slowly, she reached and grabbed his face and tugged him forward and placed her head against his. He seemed stiff and unsure what to do with the gesture. She wasn’t sure how krogan expressed themselves but she knew the turian equivalent and it would have to do for now. Eventually, she pulled away and leaned back.

After a few moments of resting she pulled the datapad over again.

-====-  
**I also would prefer that in private you call me by my actual name.** **  
** **-====-**

“Your name is not Shepard?”

She shook her head.

-====-  
**It is a last name. Like a clan name. Think of it as if I always referred to you as Urdnot.  My personal name is Pashera.** **  
** -====-

“Pashera?”

She nodded.  He gave a rumbling hum and then scooted the package on her lap closer to her hands.

She took the hint and opened it gently.  A small red stone carved into the shape of a flower rolled out onto her lap and she gingerly picked up it.

“It is a stone from Tuchanka carved like one of our old flowers.”

She allowed her hands to explore the delicate object and he continued to speak, “The stone represents our strength. As warriors or as bonded. The flower is a pale comparison to your beauty. In battle or in body.” He placed his hand over hers, “And the color is so that you will have a piece of me with you.”

She looked down and her hair fell around her face. Emotions had never been easy for her to show and now she was fairly sure she was going to cry. The tear hit his hand. She could feel him stiffen.

“Was this not to your liking?” He rumbled.

His hand began to pull away and she caught it. Some of her old strength remained and she held him fast while shaking her head. Her blurry eyes could not find the datapad so instead she once again struggled to sit up.

“Stop. You are injuring yourself, Shep—Pashera,” His voice was tinged with desperation and worry.

She continued to struggle until she slid off the bed and stood on unsteady legs. His hands came to balance her. By now several monitors were going off loudly and the salarian nurse came in with strong words on his opinion of her out of bed. She ignored him and wrapped her arms around Wrex’s middle and pressed close.  She could not convey her love of the gift through anything more than touch.

Try as she might words would not come- just soft whisper changes in her breathing as she tried to speak. She began to feel faint.

Wrex gently scooped her from her feet and laid her back into the bed while the salarian groused about her movement while only barely healed.  Having exhausted what little energy she’d had, she faded into sleep.

 

~~~

 

[ **_Wrex’s Point of view for the exchange_ ** ]

Wrex was of many emotions.

For once the strong warrior he had grown to care for was not strong. It wasn’t her fault for not being a krogan but a part of him still worried at it like a teething varren. Yet in all that, he still felt protective over her and felt a growing desire to be by her side.

She had slept for near a week. Chakwas had informed the crew that they could visit but not to expect her to be responsive because the doctors had needed to induce a coma so she could heal properly. Wrex had not been sure what a coma was -no translation in krogan- but he had understood that humans are fragile and she would need time to heal.

He stood at the door leading into the room.  Her small form could be seen through the tinted glass of the hospital window and for once he couldn’t smell her. The antibacterial used in the hospital seemed to overwhelm most of his senses and made him uneasy. He had never liked hospitals.

He frowned in thought. Did he want to bond with someone so fragile?  When he had considered it she had been strong and admirable.

After a few moments he realised could smell the salarian. It stood at his side and he slowly focused an eye on the stupid pyjack who was now bothering him. The salarian stood looking at the room for a moment and then said, “It takes a strong warrior to beat death. Stronger when they have no redundant organs.”

With that the salarian was gone and Wrex was feeling more than a little confused. Had he just been given relationship advice from a salarian? No doubt the salarian saw many different people in hospitals. It actually didn’t seem that surprising now that he thought about it.

He headed into the room and Shepard turned her pale eyes upon him.

The luster was gone and there was no smile. Just silence.

She made a few gestures with her hands and he found himself angry. He turned from her and grumbled to himself. Why would she not speak to him? He’d been actually WORRIED when she was hurt. Stupid mushy krogan. Stupid physically mushy human. It had taken ages to get all the blood off his armor. Her blood. He could still smell it on his armor and it enraged him.

Something hit him from behind and he turned.

It was a small datapad and she was gesturing at it furiously. Some of the fierce light was back in her eyes.

He read over what it said over and over. She thought he had been against their coupling. He already knew that she would throw herself in front of a bullet for most living creatures. She was strange like that but he hadn’t minded.

“You cannot say this to me yourself?”

He winced at his words. It had not been what he had meant to say. Yes, he had thought it and now that he had spoken it he did want to know.

She had pointed to a thick of handsome scars that ran across her throat. He remembered noticing it in the past. Female krogan weren’t the only ones who liked scars. He’d always wanted to know the story. There weren’t many humans who could survive wounds like that.

He read her response and he found that he couldn’t face her.

“I never wanted to leave. Didn’t have a problem with the night- only problem I might have had… is that I think I didn’t follow the proper rituals.”

There. He’d said it. He looked down at the small gift for her that he held. He should have done this before. He turned and placed it on her lap.

She made more gestures with her hands. He watched her carefully and he realized that it may be a form of communication that humans use. She’d been gesturing since he’d come in. _How much had he missed? What had she been saying?_

They ‘spoke’ for a time.  She would occasionally use those delicate and strange five fingered hands to try and speak but eventually she would resort to the datapad that had now become their primary source of communication.

“FINE!”

His shout had startled even him. Holding his normal rage in check was easy. Years of practice had made him seem almost as calm and thoughtful as an elcor but today he was a mess and it showed. He waited till the nurses and doctors who came to shush them left before talking again.

“I would like to properly woo you. I am not used to this. I am not embarrassed of you, of what we did, or to like you. You are a fierce warrior and any krogan should be flattered you would consider them worthy of your bed.”

There. He’d said it. He watched as she leaned back and stared at the ceiling.  It was a strange reaction. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. He was almost glad she didn’t have her voice because he wasn’t sure he could take hearing whatever emotions would hide in her words.

Be brave you stupid krogan.

He lifted her hand from the bed as gently as he could.

“Shepard. Do you consider me worthy of your affections?”

He envied human facial expressions sometimes. Didn’t envy the lack of attractive head plates but he did envy their smiles.  Her smile was more satisfying that any brilliant explosion in battle.  When she smiled it would light up her eyes.

Conditions.

She had conditions. Of course she had conditions. Why did she have to be so complicated? He looked at the words she had typed and pride swelled in his chest that she did indeed consider him worthy.

“Name them.”

With an agonizing slowness she did and he sat looking over at the datapad in her hands far longer than he liked. He’d heard about her family. The human Williams had mentioned it once in passing. She’d been angry about it for some reason. Three people bonded. He hadn’t paid much attention to her ranting as she’d checked over the guns. After a few minutes he realized Shepard had stopped typing and her eyes had closed.

“And?”

Surge of worry until those fantastic blue eyes opened and focused back on him.

She was running out of energy and he could see it.  She shows him the datapad again and he can’t help it as he snorts. It’s not like a human snort. He’d heard when she’d done it once. Almost thought she’d sneezed except it was in laughter. She had mentioned the bruises on her hips and he remembered how much his crotch had hurt as well.  Whatever they had done had been very rough. He was ok with rough, but he preferred a rough that didn’t mean dreading putting on pants the next day. Krogans were usually gentle with their females now as well. To harm a female during a mating was considered punishable by death. He didn’t mind gentle. Almost prefered it most of the time.

He responded with this in mind.

He watched with growing concern and admiration as she struggled to sit up more and he tried to help as best he could. He could smell her pain and although she was not able to speak he could definitely hear the soft gasp as she fought against her injuries.  Her soft hands touched him on either side of his face and she pulled him towards her. He’d seen humans kiss but she never tried to do that. Instead she rested her head against his faceplate.  He didn’t know what to do with such an intimate gesture. He had not expected it. He breathed in her scent and thanked the ancestors that she had lived.

Among krogan there were many meanings in head-butting and touching  head plates. He was not sure if she knew that this simple action was something usually only shared gently between breeding partners. Perhaps she did. He wasn’t sure. She always was full of surprises and strange knowledge.

She leaned away after a minute and he was almost sad to feel her pull away. This human was certainly making him mushy. He’d have to make sure to hit something later to make up for that.

She then surprised him.

“Your name is not Shepard?”

Of course it wasn’t.

The words slipped out before he could catch them. He wanted to grumble in annoyance at not being able to control himself around her more. He read the words she typed. How was that pronounced? He decided to give it a try.

“Pashera?”

He could see that he’d gotten it right, and he couldn’t help but give a pleased low key hum.  It was a strong name, but it held the same beauty that he’d seen in her. The small package he’d given her was on her lap, and he nudged it towards her. The gift was one of the most important parts to a bonding ritual, and he was nervous about her reaction.

He spoke as she slowly touched the stone. Her fingers traced over the small petals as he spoke the poem he’d been rehearsing since he’d first made the purchase.  He had decided not to mention that she was his delicate Tuchanka flower. Her skin like it's dark sands and skies. Her hair was its shadowy ruins and hidden places.  Her eyes like the shining scales of the pit varren. The spots across her nose that fascinated him were like precious drops of rain on the ground. He placed a hand over hers as he talked though. He wanted to feel her against him.

She bowed her head and her hair covered her face once he finished speaking.

Worry.

Was she rejecting him? Had the gift been insufficient?

A wet tear hit his hand. He’d learned in his travels that humans expressed sadness or grief with tears. He was being rejected. He pulled away.

Her hand caught him and he felt the old strength that she’d had in their battle. She held him fast and shook her head. Her hand searched on the bed for something but upon not finding it she struggled to sit up again.

“Stop. You are injuring yourself, Shep—Pashera.”

Panic.

She would not stop moving and eventually she managed to slide off the bed and into his arms. Nothing else mattered in that moment as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her soft body against him. She made him wish he had not been wearing armor. He could smell her. Her injuries. Her pain. Her tears. Through it all she still smelled faintly of flowers and his old home-world. Sand and flowers. Rain on the wind. Life. She held him and he heard too soft breaths as she tried to speak.  He noticed the change in her stance. She was going to pass out.

He lifted her as gently as possible and set her down back onto the bed.

He looked down at her still body and felt pride- His warrior had found strength to stand even while so wounded, and she had done it for _him_.

~~

Over the next week Pashera faced many of her crew members. They came to express concern, well wishes, and apologies. Her voice had still not returned and though they did not understand, she would still sign that she was sorry.

The only visit she had where they understood was Anderson.

He signed back resolutely that he was sorry as well. Guilt was palpable- he considered a lot of things to be his fault. There were apologies for yelling and failing to see that she needed help. After Torfan he should have been there. Should have recognised when she was pulling away from people and closing herself off. She felt like it was her fault. Losing control. Doing stupid things. Failing to recognize a relapse.

In the end she broke down in tears.

She had not wanted any of this. She had wanted to fight and protect, but she couldn’t even fight her own demons that haunted her. She had not wanted to cause harm to those she cared for but at the same time she just wanted to sleep and escape. The message from the beacon tore at her soul because she knew if she didn’t stand up and continue fighting then entire worlds would be wiped clean. It was like living a nightmare that she couldn’t get anyone to believe in even as the shadow darkened the sky as evidence.

It would have been so much simpler to die.

She could have been with her family. Seen her sisters. Walked the star road to her next destination and found peace.

Anderson hugged her to his chest as she cried. Always there. Still family.

Neither of them seemed to care if someone found out that they called each other family at this point because it was more important to BE family.

~~

Pashera sat tiredly in one of the hospital chairs. She’d gotten annoyed at being in the bed for the past week and decided to move about a little. Her hand traced idly over her arm. There had been burns from the rocket and places where the skin had been replaced with grafts. Most of her dragon was gone. Shiny flesh covered her ribcage on the right and most of her stomach. Her hand moved to where the old tattoo had been. Moon, heart, name. No longer there.

She had to decide.

The decision weighed heavy on her as she sat brooding. Should she have German redo it? Or should she allow it to stay in the past for both of them. No real point in dredging up old memories.

As she thought it over there was a knock at the wall to her room. She looked up to see that German was there with a portable tattoo kit and forced smile.

“Hey, Shera. How does my rose bloom?”

She gave him a weak smile, “I’m not sure.” Her voice was raspy and little more than a whisper. Her gaze traveled back to the window and the smile faded, “Not sure at all.”

He was careful as he pulled a chair to sit beside her, “Anderson told me that it was gone. I figured that I might offer to redo it. I can’t work in the areas that have been freshly grafted,” His hand came up to brush gently against her arm where the dragon had been, “But if you would like it somewhere else….”

He didn’t finish or need to clarify. German was still leaving the choice up to her, but now she knew he was willing to re-do it. She bowed her head, “I don’t know where. Prefer somewhere near the heart…”

German’s hand slipped into hers, “There are plenty of options but I need to know where you aren’t injured to help give a suggestion. That is, if you are okay with that, ma chère. We can do this later if you want. I really used it as an excuse to come and make sure you were alright.”

Worry was bright in his eyes as he leaned in close to her. She sighed and slumped forward in the chair, “I’m not sure I want to really talk about… if I’m alright or not. We both know I haven’t been alright. Not really. Not since my family died. Not since Torfan. Now... I have too many people who need me to succeed. I have to push past how I feel. How I feel… doesn't matter.”

“Bullshit, Pashera!” German said angrily. His hand squeezed her’s while he spoke, “That is complete bullshit and you know it.” For once he didn’t use flowery words or phrases as he chastised her, “It’s okay to NOT be okay. To take some time for yourself. It DOES matter how you feel. I know you won't talk to me, but  there are people who care for you. Talk to them if you can. Just… talk to people. Don’t shut yourself away again. I love you too damn much to see this happening again. I know you can’t forgive me and that’s fine. At least you’re still part of my life. Don’t change that. I’m not sure… if I could survive fully losing you.”

Pashera looked up at him with a small frown, “I know, _mera dost_. We may… I may not be able to be with you but I still... “ She looked away, “I still care for you. I will try to speak more with people. It has never been easy...  but I will try.”

He sighed and moved to kneel in front of her, “Pashera, would it be too much to ask you to call me and Anderson a little more often for a while? Just till we know you’re okay? I…*we* were really worried.”

A small smile flickered over her face, “Fine. I will try. _Būṛhā ādamī.”_

With a smile, he reached a hand up to cup her face, “There is my lovely rose.” His thumb brushed the scar as his eyes searched her face, “I know I did wrong by you. I can’t undo it. You know I wouldn’t even if I could… but I’m glad to see you here. And… “ He cleared his throat before continuing, “ _Mujhē āpakī yāda ātī hai._ ”

She leaned into his touch, “Your pronunciation was better.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek before moving to sit on the nearby chair once more, “I’ve been practicing. Now, let's talk about the placement.”

 

~~

 

Another week passed and she was well enough to speak with the council. Her voice and body finally healed enough for her to pretend that she was alright. Although her voice would break and was raspy- she managed to convince them that her health was improved and that she could continue despite her injuries. Thankfully, her other condition had been kept a secret. Eating disorders and anxiety were usually signs that a soldier was no longer any good and should be tossed aside like a dirty rag. She wasn’t going to let that happen. It took some convincing, but she vehemently claimed that a ‘small injury’ would not put her out of the fight and she would continue her duty no matter the circumstances.

Begrudgingly, they allowed her to keep her the mission and gave her what new information they had found.

Noveria.

Recently they had found evidence that Saren and the Matriarch had some sort of lab on a small cold planet that was ‘technically’ out of the Council’s jurisdictions but she was to proceed there anyhow.  She walked stiffly out of the small room that she’d met the council in. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to want to broadcast private health matters in the large chamber.  Once she was out she sank down onto a nearby bench and wearily closed her eyes. Walking was difficult. Healing breaks had been re-broken and even though they had done corrective surgeries and she’d had some time to recover- she still was not at full health. It wasn’t long before Anderson and Chakwas found her and helped her limp her way back to the normandy. When they got there she gave instructions to head out for Noveria as soon as possible.

It seemed that Chakwas had found out about Anderson and Pashera, so when Pashera lay down and thanked Anderson as dad, the doctor didn’t bat an eye.

 

~~

 

A new omni tool and armor was left in a package on her table when she woke and next to it someone had left her a new pack of mixed teas. They were asari blends instead of her favored hanar ones, but she didn’t mind. She sniffed the packets and decided on one that made her think of sunsets. The smell and taste were not something she could place a finger on, but it wasn’t terrible. She sipped it and while making her way out of her cabin. As commander, she felt she’d neglected her duty for far too long- it was time to make rounds. Time to return to normal patterns. Time to face people.

She’d been give a small cane to use for the next few days and there was a small biotic brace on her waist. There had been injuries to her spine, hips, and she’d re-broken her leg. It would be another few days before Chakwas cleared her fit for action and she would need to take time to re-build the muscles she had lost. Modern practices meant that human muscles did not atrophy quite as bad, but they still did suffer some muscle loss. Grabbing the cane she slowly made her way to the cockpit. On her way, she’d stopped to ask for reports and talk with nearly every crew member on her way there and she was exhausted. Her favorite side seat was empty and she sat down gingerly. Eyes flicking as she quietly watched the VI scroll ship read-outs across the screens. Sleep started to make her drift and she  carefully set her cup down on the floor and leaned her head back.

“We still friends?”

Joker’s voice broke into her pleasant drift and Pashera struggled to wake up. Eventually, she managed to crack open an eye and give him her best glare without moving. She knew it probably looked more like a sleepy pout but she tried anyhow, “Not if you keep waking me up.” Her voice still sounded strange but it didn’t give out anymore and she was thankful.

He gave her a scruffy, crooked smile before turning to watch the movie he had playing on one of his lower screens. She leaned over to watch as well once it caught her attention. There hadn’t been a lot of time for movies since becoming a Spectre with her own ship. Too much time reading over reports. It was easier to simply put on music most of the time.  Didn’t help that all her ‘free’ time was spent with the crew. Talking with people. Cleaning guns. Biotic practice. Not that she really minded but she really did miss movies.

The pilot’s eyes began to flick nervously at her when she remained watching. It was some sort of hanar action movie. She wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. The hanar were notorious for avoiding battle- something about their religion. She’d heard that they had another race that they trained to battle for them but she didn’t know beyond that.

After a minute she realized that she didn’t hear any of the movie and she looked at Joker.

“Have they stopped making movies with sound?”

He tapped a few buttons and suddenly she could hear it through the small comm she wore on her ear at all times.

“I don’t play the movies over the speakers. You… aren’t angry?”

~~

Joker sat stock still in his seat as the commander came and sat to his left in the empty chair. It seemed to be her favored spot. For once she hadn’t been able to sneak up on him in that creepy silent Spectre way. Between her limp and the cane, he could damn near hear her through most of the ship.

She sat down and placed her mug on the floor and just sighed.

The silence had been making him nervous, so he’d just blurted the first thing that came to mind before he realized that she’d actually fallen asleep.

He’d watched her as she slowly cracked open a pale blue eye and the corner of her mouth twitched as she tried to wake up.

“Not if you keep waking me up.”

It was her version of a joke. A very mild and underhanded joke. He was starting to understand her. She hid behind gruff and scary the way he hid behind jokes and defensiveness. He couldn’t help but smile when he realized this and he turned away back to his movie. He’d managed to get ahold of the new Blasto holovid while they’d waited for her to recover. Most of the crew had pitched in to help fill some of the requisition orders and keep things in shape. Anderson had allowed a lot of leave time though. Almost everyone had used the time to visit family. It had been a rare treat. Not saying that he wanted the commander to nearly kill herself again, but he knew the crew had been able to wind down a little because of it. Heck, the Normandy had gotten some work too while they were parked. It wasn’t much but he was sure that with all the running around they’d done, the poor ship might have needed it.

After a few minutes, he realized that the commander had leaned over in her chair and was watching the movie as well. Aw fuck. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was on duty. He was very glad it wasn’t porn but it still felt like being caught masturbating by the parents.  She was watching intently though and now he couldn’t close the movie away the way he normally did.

“Have they stopped making movies with sound?”

The question was surprising as an explosion filled his ear and he realized that of course she couldn’t hear it- he only played the sound to his comm so he wouldn’t get caught. Of course, like getting caught masturbating, it was pointless to stay quiet if everyone could already see the dick in your hands.

He deftly linked her comm with his own and he watched as she listened to the explosions from the movie.

He watched her face carefully, but she didn’t seem to be angered. Here he was watching a movie with his commanding officer -while on duty- and she just looked absorbed in the series of explosions. He had to admit, he wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it hadn’t been this.

“I don’t play the movies over the speakers. You… aren’t angry?” He said while still expecting the anger to cross her face. He hadn’t ever really seen her angry with *him* but he always expected it.

She looked surprised as she said, “No. Why would I be? You have to sit here for exceedingly long periods and monitor all this.” She gestured to the many screens that surrounded them before continuing, “We all know that most of the time it’s just boring information repeating over and over again. I allow music, reading, and movies as long as it doesn’t interfere with reaction time. ….Actually, did you know Pressly reads romances? I caught him once.”

She leaned back into her chair and continued, “You’d think by his reaction I was going to skin him. I’d been reading over his shoulder for a good ten minutes. Not a bad novel actually, but I don’t have much time to read anything but reports nowadays. …Kind of miss movies too but it seems like movies now are… odd. I prefer some of the old earth tv shows. Also enjoyed some of the turian war movies. The old earth ones can only go over the World Wars so many times before the racism makes me want to chuck it out the airlock.”

Joker turned and watched the movie, but his head was buzzing. All walls were down and she was talking to him. Actually more than a few clipped sentences. And Pressly read romances- oh he was going to use that later, but damn this was a surprising turn.

The end credits rolled on with some music and he glanced at her. Her eyes were closed and ever so slightly she bobbed her head to the music.

“Survivalism by Nine Inch Nails. Nice to see they aren’t afraid to use classics for modern movies. Fitting.”  

He stared slightly agape. She knew classic earth rock music. Oh my god- she knew classic earth rock music. It was almost too much information to take. He pursed his lips in thought and rubbed a hand through his beard. Time to gamble.

“Well, Commander, if you ever get bored and want to watch a movie sometime I’ve got a huge collection. Even got a few of the old earth TV shows,” He didn’t mention that he probably had ALL of them. His collection was pretty impressive. He’d have to start looking into the Turian war movies she’d mentioned. He had avoided a lot of them for fear it would just be about the first contact war.

She smiled and picked up her cup, “Sure. I wouldn’t mind that.” She struggled to her feet. He watched as she stood and could see the burns and healing skin grafts on her arms. The dragon tattoo she’d had was almost completely burned off now and only small area of it remained. It looked more like she simply had * _become_ * the dragon.

She caught him looking and a small frown flitted over her face, “Is it that bad?” She glanced down at her arm while leaning her hip against the chair.

“Oh no, I was just thinking it was cooler now. I mean it was cool before but… yeah. I’m just gonna go back to work,” he was flustered as he replied.

He turned away from her and with some determinations started flipping through reports at random. He heard her limp away. That had not been the smoothest tactic but she’d thrown him for a few loops. His reaction to stress was fine if it was flying but stress and talking always seemed to be a bad combination to him.

He then realized that she had actually accepted his invitation to watch movies with him and he wasn’t sure whether to panic or cheer.

~~

The punching bag was taking quite a beating.

Pashera was trying to raise her heartbeat while Chakwas took scans to see if she’d healed enough to be cleared for active duty. Pashera intended to go planet side on Novera even if she wasn’t cleared, but they had another day of travel before then and she was hoping she would not have to fight with Chakwas.

They had already had a rather hair raising one-sided screaming match since Pashera’s recovery. Chakwas had been furious at her for not seeking help. She’d been yelling and pacing, “ _You are a soldier and I KNOW you know better than to mistreat your body like that! You of all people!_ ” Pashera had stood quiet and let the doctor vent.

Pashera punched the bag faster at the memory. She knew it had been because she’d given Chakwas a real scare and the doctor was just trying to express her concern. Most of the crew had said similar things in their own ways. In fact, Chakwas and Alenko had joined forces in threatening to force feed her if she didn’t eat properly. Biotics typically took more food than usual and she could have done serious harm by avoiding eating.  

Pashera had pointedly begun taking meals with the crew after that.

“Okay, I’ve got the readings. You are officially cleared for duty, Commander,” Chakwas said. She sounded tired as she tapped at her datapad.

Pashera started cool down stretches as she looked at Chakwas, “Karin. I know this is kingly coming from me, but... You okay?”

The look she directed at Pashera was priceless. Small crinkles formed around the doctor’s eyes as she struggled not to smile. Pashera knew the doctor was trying to stay mad.

Pashera gave her a hesitant smile, “I’m aware of the irony. Me asking that question, but… since you’re the ship doctor I’m the only ranking officer you can come to and… friend… if we are still friends.”

Chakwas gave an unladylike snort, “Of course we are friends. That’s part of why everyone is so angry with you. We are *all* your friends. As for me, I’m fine. Just tired. Your father requested regular reports and I also have to keep the Alliance and Council informed of how you’re healing. They may have allowed you to leave the hospital but until now- you still weren’t cleared for more than walking around.”

“Karin,” Pashera placed a hand on the doctor’s arm, “I’m not sure if he mentioned it or not but that--”

The doctor cut her off with a wave of her hand, “Pash, I know it’s a secret. It’s not hard to figure out why. Anyhow, go... somewhere else. I’m still mad at you. Pain in my ass.” She shook her head, “Actually, I need to get back to the med-bay. Do me a favor and stay away from more rockets in the future, yeah? And for the love of all- make sure you eat or I’ll sic Alenko on you. That boy is like an angry mother bear now when it comes to you and just your luck he’d try to cook something like steak for you.”

Pashera grimaced, “That would be… unpleasant to say the least. Please do not send him after me. I will eat. Have been. Even stashed food in one of my cabinets in the room. Ranger’s honor- I’ll eat.”

The doctor walked away while laughing and saying, “Scout’s. Pash. It’s Scout’s honor. And it’s ‘rich’, not ‘kingly’.”

Pashera felt a small wavering smile cross her face as she asked, “Same difference… right?” Karin didn’t answer as the elevator doors closed behind her.

She sighed and turned to the large Krogan who had walked silently up to her. She was sure he had heard the entire conversation and he was staring at her with his usual unreadable expression. Pashera looked away from him and wandered away to pull down the mat from where it was clasped to the wall. Wrex helped her set it down and after watching her for a moment, he helped her fold it against the wall like a couch. When they were done she sat stiffly. Her legs shaky and tired. Although, she didn’t need the cane anymore she still limped and her body ached from the training she’d been putting in lately.

Wrex stood above her like a looming red shadow and she glared up at him, “Are you going to sit?”

The krogan gave a soft huff and settled next to her. At the moment she felt torn between cranky, confused, and scared. She knew it showed. Since she’d left the hospital they had struggled to communicate. He’d remained in her shadow though, and to her surprise he had been there to help whenever she’d needed it. A day where her leg gave out while she tried to manage the stairs- he’d caught her. When she couldn’t reach something- he had been there to silently hand her it. A part of her appreciated it and a part of her was terrifyingly angry at his treatment of her. She was a Commander of a ship. A Battlemaster. A warrior. She didn't need someone hovering over her shoulder.  It was hard to communicate how much she loved and hated his help. Hell, they hadn’t really had a chance to talk since the hospital. With a sigh she leaned against him. She was tired and thinking herself in circles.  

She pressed her face against his shoulder. One thing she’d discovered in their sparse time together was that she loved the way he smelled. It wasn’t a reptilian musk like she thought it might be. No. It was like woodsmoke and gun oil. Something about the scent reminded her of her father’s old ship and night spent around a dying bonfire as they picked out constellations. The smell was like a far away memory and she wondered how and why he smelled that way. Maybe it was just her being strange. ‘Sniffing men’ as Pressly had once said. Eventually the silence stretched longer than she liked and she said, “I know you were there. Are you going to ask?”

The big krogan shifted slightly against her before replying, “No.”

Pashera felt an overwhelming sense of frustration. She was more than aware that communication was key in relationships but so far neither of them had been very successful at it. She huffed gently and turned her face away from him.

“You are upset,” he said rumbled softly.

She wrinkled her nose- at least he could tell her mood a little. They may not be very good at talking to each other but that was a step.  She mulled over her response, “A little. You are one of the few allowed to ask questions and you do not. I don’t mind but it… I don’t know. It is not often that I allow people to pry. Yet as someone I… care for- you are allowed to ask things that others most certainly are not.”

She could feel the shift of his shoulders as his head tilted in thought and he said, “I see.”

Once again her nose wrinkled as she fought down an overwhelming sense of frustration. She hadn’t had a relationship in over five years and it felt like she was a teenager trying to date again. It didn’t help that Wrex was really stepping into new territory because she’d never gone beyond flirting with krogan in the past. A soft growl fought it’s way out of her throat and she rolled onto his lap. Pulling herself upright she shifted until she was straddling him. Her forehead pressed against his crimson headplate and her fingers curling into small openings of his armour.

Wrex went riged. This was by far the most contact they’d had since she’d blacked out in his arms in the hospital. She wasn’t sure if he was simply against the gesture or if something else was making him tense.

“Wrex? If you don’t want this… If you don’t want to pursue me I need to know,” she spoke in a small whisper. Fear for his rejection made her chest feel heavy. It seemed she lived in constant fear of people not wanting her though very few had given her reason to fear. Since losing her family it just seemed safer to push people away by assuming they didn’t want her. It was easier to make walls than get hurt. She was very, very good at making walls.

His arms settled on her hips and he grumbled, “That is not the problem, Pashera. I do not know why you would think that.”

She leaned back slightly and began to fidget with the buckles on his armour, “Just a… habit.” Her hands moved to trace along his neck where one of his scars peeked from his chestplate. She shifted again after a few moments when her hip began to hurt.

He gave a soft grunt and his hands grabbed more firmly at her hips as he said, “Pashera, if you keep moving- we are going to have an issue.”

Her brow furrowed and she leaned back to see his face. The action caused his fingers to twitch. “Am I hurting you?” She asked with a worried frown.

He gave one of his soundless snorts of amusement, “No.”

“Then the issue….?”

Wrex looked at her in his slow solemn way, “What do you think it is?”

Pashera bit at her lip and tilted her head. A stray curl fell over her face and she could feel the burn of a blush as it crept into her cheeks. Glancing at him while still tracing at his scar, she shifted again slightly. This time the action had more purpose and she could hear his breathing change. “Would it * _really_ * be an issue?” she asked before leaning in to kiss at his neck.

He gave a low growl. Actually, it might have been half a moan- she wasn’t entirely sure. His hands slid along her hips as he answered, “No. It would not be an issue.”

~~

Once again Pashera woke next to Wrex. Thankfully, this time was less tense and far less painful. For a while she lay quietly listening to him breath before her hand began to wander and trace over the small scars that dotted his hide. Bullet wounds. Stab wounds. Some jagged. Some pristine. Sometimes she would stop to admire one that she could see. Her hand tracing faintly over the edges. While looking over one on his chest, one of his large hands came up to hold hers still.

She shifted against him, “Sorry, Wrex. Did I wake you?”

“No,” His voice was gruff, but she couldn’t tell if it was from sleep or something else. Pashera was surprised when he actually elaborated for once, “It tickles, and that is not my favorite sensation.”

She hid her smile against his side until it passed. Eventually a thought struck her, and she propped herself up with an elbow to look at him, “Wrex, why did you become a mercenary?”

His arm snaked under her ribs to wrap around her waist pulling her close against him.

“Lots of reasons.”

With a exasperated sigh, she slid one of her legs over his. She decided to try and see if she could wait him out. After a few minutes of silence he relented, “Fine. I needed to get out of our system. I needed to eat. I needed to survive.”

His voice was a soft rumble as he explained for her.

She rested her chin on his chest, “You seem passionate about your people. Why not stay and help them?”

“I tried.”

She wriggled against him till she could reach his neck and she rubbed her cheek against the soft skin there and he hummed in response. Over the last few hours she’d discovered that she greatly enjoyed making him hum; it was almost better than a cat purr.

After some thought he finally continued, “I had to leave because I was betrayed. I was head of a small tribe. We were trying to restore order after the war, but the other tribes were against us. They followed Jarrod, one of the few warlords who survived the war with the turians. But he was old, and so were his ideas. He wanted to continue the war. He wanted to fight: turians, salarians, each other. It didn’t matter who as long as we were fighting.”

Pashera wrapped an arm around his waist, “What did you want?”

He grumbled under his breath before continuing, “I just wanted Jarrod to shut up. To stop his ranting. I wanted him to stop leading the tribes astray. But he couldn’t understand how much things had changed. We didn’t have the numbers to go to war. Even if we did, the genophage made sure we couldn’t replenish our numbers fast enough. I told them all to forget about war. We needed to focus on breeding. At least for one generation. And for a while, we were getting through. Some of the tribes started coming around.”

Pshera pressed her face into his neck and tried to muffle the giggle that hit her.

He huffed gently into her hair, “What…?”

She peekd out at him, “I never would have taken your for a ‘make love not war’ type. It… struck me as funny.”

He gave her a pained look, “I like fighting as much as any krogan.”

She gave another muffled giggle before un-tucking herself and giving him a gentle kiss on the neck, “I wasn't doubting your battle prowess. I just found humor in a dark place. Please continue.”

His hand moved to squeeze her thigh, “Jarrod arranged a Crush with the tribes. A meeting on neutral ground. He wanted to talk. We met at the Hallows, near the graves of our ancestors. The skulls of our dead laid bare to remind us where we come from, and where we all go. It’s as sacred as any krogan place can be. Violence is forbidden.”

She hmm’d and asked, “A trap?”

“Yes. But… when your father invites you to a Crush… well, there are some laws we hold sacred.”

She tensed at his words, “Jarrod was your father?”

His body shifted as he gave a slight nod, “He was. Until that day. …We talked. But we didn’t get anywhere. When it was clear that I wouldn’t join him, he gave the signal,” Wrex gave a soft growl, “His men leapt from the graves of our ancestors like krogan undead! The few that were loyal to me died quickly. I escaped with my life. But not before I sank my dagger deep into my father’s chest. That… is why I left. And that is why I’ll never go back.”

Pashera chewed her lip in thought, “What about other family?”

He grumbled under his breath again, “Honestly, woman. ….Yes, I have other family. I’ve got some unfinished business with them. But that’s all.”

She propped herself up on an elbow and stared down at him with a tiny frown. After a few seconds he huffed and said, “Fine. Before I left, I made an oath to my father’s father. I swore to recover my family’s battle armor. It was taken from him after the uprising. It’s a relic; useless, really. But it was worn by five generations of my family before the war. It’s rightfully mine. Originally, it was taken by turian military. We weren’t allowed armor or weapons after the war.  Now, it’s in the hands of Tonn Actus. A turian scum who collects relics from the war. He’s made millions selling krogan artifacts that were stolen from my people. He’s got several bases where he stores his goods. All fortified and guarded. I just don’t know which base has my family’s armor.”

Pashera nodded and lowered herself back down against his chest. After tucking herself firmly against him and wrapping her arm around his waist she said, “Wrex, after Noveria we will look for it together.”

She could hear him hum in response. Her ear was pressed to his chest so it sounded like a mountain singing.  They lapsed into silence for a while before he started to grumble under his breath. Without moving she asked, “Yes, Wrex?”

“The Doctor mentioned sending a report to your father. From what I know- your family is no longer alive.”

Pashera gave a soft chuckle, “They are dead. However I have an adoptive father. When my family was killed he took me in. I believe you’ve met him- Captain Anderson of the Alliance. However since my adoption was never official… we kept it a secret. More-so now when being family would mean that he would no longer be allowed to give orders or assist my missions. I ask that you do not tell others.”

He chuckled, “As if I would tell your secrets to those ship pyjaks.”

She shifted to kiss his chest, “ _Aap bahadur aur nidar hoon.”_ She moved to kiss a new spot _, “Mujhe tumhari fikar hai. …._ _Dhanyavaad. Tuma mujhē khuśa karatē hō._ ” She shifted to kiss and whisper against another spot, “ _Dil kee gaharaeon se dhanyavaad._ ” He hummed softly as she mumbled words against his skin. She knew his translator wouldn’t pick it up but he never asked and she wasn’t ready to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aap bahadur aur nidar hoon - You are brave and fearless.  
> Tuma mujhē khuśa karatē hō - you make me happy  
> tumne mujhe kush kardiya - you make me happy  
> Mujhe tumhari fikar hai - I care about you.  
> Dil kee gaharaeon se dhanyavaad- From the bottom of my heart thank you.
> 
> Pa'tasy Flowers: Very similar to earth's poppy flower. Most common variant is a very pale blue but also grows in a pale yellow and purple. Some asari botanists have begun attempts to breed new colors. The root of the flower is partially the base of medi-gel but they were originally used as decorative garden flowers to prevent pests.
> 
> Jalimine Pigeons: Pigeons originally from the asari homeworld. Unlike Earth pigeons these birds are hunters of small rodents. They were imported in after a batarian freight ship accidentally lost 3/4ths of it's Huskine rodent shipment in an accident. The birds are typically sought after due to the fact that a flock will only defecate in one location and most of the presidium plants flourish from the rich droppings being used in fertilizer.
> 
> Huskine Rodent: Small blue mouse. Was once sought after as pets with enthusiasm- until an incident that loosed hundred of the rodents onto the citadel in 1974 C.E. With the acceptance of humans- the new favorite pet on the citadel is now the space hamster.


	15. Melting Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something, something, Noveria, something.

 

 

“Approach Control, this is the SSV Normandy. Requesting a vector and a berth," Joker’s voice woke Pashera from her nap and she cracked her eyes open.

“ _Normandy, your arrival was not scheduled. Our defense grid is armed and tracking you. State your business_ ,” a male voice spoke over the cockpit comms. Pashera watched as Joker rolled his eyes before he answered, “Citadel business. We’ve got a Council Spectre aboard.”

Silence.

Pashera waited while looking out the window at the planet they were now in orbit of.

“ _Landing access granted, Normandy. Be advised: we will be confirming identification on arrival. If confirmation cannot be established, your vessel will be impounded._ ”

Pashera gave a soft snort and Joker smirked as they began the landing process.

“What a fun bunch. I think I’ll take my next leave here,” he said sarcastically while pulling into the small landing port. Pashera shook her head with a smile and stood, “get the team ready in full gear. I do not know what I am going to be greeted with outside the airlock but I would rather be safe than sorry.”

“On it,” he replied without looking away from the holographic panels that his hands were taping through.

Pashera had geared up before sitting for her nap so she stood waiting patiently at the airlock for her team. She stretched and leaned against the doorway with a frown as she mentally reviewed possible scenarios.

Liara was the first to arrive and Pashera looked her over solemnly before saying, “Liara, if you would like to opt out of this mission I would understand. There is a possibility that your mother-,” Liara cut her off with a shake of her head.

“No. If my mother is a traitor I want to face her and ask her why. I won’t get in your way if… if things get unpleasant.”

Pashera nodded and they stood in companionable silence while the other members of the squad slowly arrived. Once everyone was present Pashera began the short brief, “Alright cupcakes, keep your guard up. I do not think we will be receiving a ‘ _warm_ ’ welcome and it is not just because of all the ice on this damn planet. I am not sure what we are going to find. This could be a wild duck chase.”

Williams and Alenko shared a look and Williams said, “Did you mean _goose_ chase, ma’am?”

She shrugged, “Goose. Duck. Swan. All earth waterfowl that I have heard about but never seen. Anyhow, stay sharp- I got the impression from our approach that we were not exactly welcome. I would like everyone to quickly make sure you have the auto thermal settings on your suits- there is a very real chance we may have to rough it in that nasty weather.”  She held up her omni-tool and continued, “I want us synced for this entire mission.  We are going to be using a private encrypted channel courtesy of Tali’s excellent engineering skills and I would like regular updates once we split into teams. Is everyone ready?”

Nods and affirmations were heard from the squad and they quickly headed out of the airlock. No one was really eager for being out in the cold, but it would be their first mission in weeks and many of the squad were itching to go.  Pashera walked down the docking ramp and cast a warily eye at the heavily armed group of security waiting for them.

“That’s far enough,” a lady at the front of the group said with a frown once they were fairly close.

Pashera frowned, “Is there something wrong, Officer?”

A small blond female soldier nearby gave a disdainful sniff and said, “You better hope there isn’t.”

The first woman’s frown intensified, “This is an unscheduled arrival. I need your credentials.”

Pashera resisted a sigh, she didn’t need a nose to smell trouble coming with this crew, “I am a Spectre. My name is Shepard. Also an Alliance Commander. We broadcast my codes upon arrival.”

“Load of horse shit, ma’am.” the blond said. Her flippant tone seemed to cary in the wide ship hangar even though there was a raging storm nearby.

Biting her tongue, Pashera began counting to 100. Something about the little blond woman made her trigger finger itch. The first woman gave a slight nod but ignored the blond as she spoke, “We are attempting to get confirmation on the codes. Also, I must advise you that firearms are not permitted on Noveria. Sergeant Stirling, secure their weapons.”

The blond woman, who Pashera now knew to be Sgt. Stirling, stepped forward with a nasty smirk. Her intentions were clear. The crew’s weapons were up in seconds- Pashera left her gun holstered and instead glowed fiercely with her biotics.  The guards raised their own weapons in response.

Wrex snarled, “Don’t try it.”

Pashera narrowed her eyes, “You will step back, NOW. Our weapons remain with us. My authority as a Spectre allows me and my team to remain armed.”

Sterling made eye contact with Pashera and snarled to the other guards, “Charge and lock!”

The woman who appeared mostly in charge had not drawn her gun, and she scowled and locked her arms behind her back, “We are authorized to use lethal force. You have to the count of three to surrender your weapons.”

Pashera’s eyes seemed to snap with her fury she hissed her next words in anger, “And you have till the count of three to BACK OFF before I turn you to paste.”

The woman blinked but began counting anhow, “One. Two. Thr—“

“Captain Matsuo! Stand down.” A voice shouted over the loudspeakers, “We have confirmed their identity. Spectres are authorized to carry weapons here, Captain.”

Pashera and the team did not relax till all the guards had lowered their weapons.  She had to concentrate on breathing and resuming her composure before her biotic glow would fade.  Her anger simmered under the surface.

“You may proceed, Spectre. I hope the rest of your visit will be less confrontational,” Captain Matsuo said with a little nod, “Parasini-san will meet you upstairs.”

Sgt Sterling glared, “Behave yourself.”

In two quick steps Pashera stood face to face with the snappish Sergeant and said softly, “ _Chup ke chut hai. Tor mai ke chodho, backar chodu._ If you do not close your mouth I will remove your tongue, _Sergeant_.”

One of the soldiers goggled at her. It was rare that someone actually spoke hindi out in the ‘verse but today seemed to be the kind of day for surprises. She wasn’t entirely sure if his look was because he understood what she’d said or if it was because of how she was speaking to the bitchy blond. When he saw Pashera’s glare aimed his way, his mouth snapped shut and he shifted to stare stoically at the docks.

Pashera spun on her heel and walked towards the large glass doors. She hoped that her slight limp didn’t show. It was difficult to be intimidating with a limp. Once through the doors she walked towards the empty stairway and leaned against the railing.

Alenko rubbed the back of his neck while coming to stand nearby, “Wow, Commander. You’re a little scary sometimes. What did you say? That poor man looked like he was going to soil himself when you looked at him.”

Wrex gave a soft chuckle and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch with a smile she held back, “I was a little… foul tongued.” She waved her hand vaguely, “Generally, I said to shut up and may perhaps have called her a fucker of animals. Particular animals. I’m not entirely sure on the translation but it was rude and I was… annoyed.”

Tali’s eyes blinked at her slowly from behind her helmet, “ _keelah_ , Shepard. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you that mad at someone.”

Pashera gave a small shrug and glanced up the stairs where she could see a woman in a horrifyingly pink outfit eyeing them. Pushing from the railing she said, “I’m not often angry. Or… I do not often express anger. I’m not sure which. I feel off today though. Seems being a Spectre amounts to shit, and I feel… like I need to shoot something.”

Wrex nudged her with his shoulder, “A little more krogan every day.”

Pashera gave him a quick smile as she moved towards the stairs, “Let’s * _try_ * not to shoot people here. They are fairly unwelcoming as it is. Let us go speak to this Parasini-san.”

When she reached the stairs, she sighed and clamped her mouth shut. On the ship- no one asked or cared it if took her a monumental amount of time to go somewhere. Stairs were the one thing she still had trouble with. If she was going down- her leg might give out. If she was going up- it was horribly painful and her leg STILL might give out. Setting her face in a careful neutral look, she gripped the guardrail for all she was worth and started a steady pace up the stairs. It was only one flight, but it still hurt.

When she reached the top, she paused to wait for the others to arrive. To her annoyance and amusement they seemed to have decided to take turned heading up the stairs one at a time so that she could have time to recover. It seems they were all aware that stairs were still an issue and had made plans accordingly. As the last person began to head up the stairs, Pashera walked the last leg of the way to the counter. Hovering scanners chirped as she passed and an alarm began to sound, the raucous noise echoed on the hard stone walls as if one had put their head in the inside of a ringing bell.

“Weapons detectors,” the woman in pink said, “Don’t mind the alarms.”

Now that Pashera was even with the lady, she could see that the outfit looked like it was painted on. A latex of some sort. That was a very strange outfit to be wearing as work-clothing. Bright pink. It almost made her eyes water with the smarting color.  That had to be supremely uncomfortable.

Then again, maybe not.

The lady stepped fully up to the counter and gave a nod, “I am Gianna Parasini, assistant to Administrator Anoleis. We apologize for the incident in the docking bay.”

Pashera gave a slow blink before responding, “ I appreciate your assistance.”

Gianna inclined her head, “You’re welcome. You understand our security chief was only doing her job. One of my duties is orientation of new arrivals. Do you have any questions?”

“Has anyone, hm, * _unusual_ * passed through here recently?” Pashera asked with a slight wave of her hand. She had no intention of letting them know who or what she was looking for just yet. In places like this- you never knew who was paid off.

“Unusual?” Giana repeated as a small frown creased her face. After a few seconds of silence she said, “Well, we’ve had a couple non-standard visitors like yourself.  An Asari Matriarch passed through a few days ago. As did a pair of volus merchants who very rarely actually visit the lab they funded. I’m sorry but really the only thing ‘unusual’ passing through is you.”

Mentally, Pashera was screaming ‘gotcha’ but her exterior was the same calm she wore for most formal situations. She glanced to one of the nearby guards and said, “Hm. May I inquire as to the names and locations of the people you just mentioned?”

“The matriarch was Lady Benezia. She left of Peak 15. The Volus merchants are Pitne For and Dankni Kur. They are business partners with a lab on Peak 12. To the best of my knowledge- none of them have left yet. However, you’d need to speak with Administrator Anoleis for clearance to leave this port.”

Pashera hmm’d in response, “I see. Thank you, Miss Parasini. If there is nothing further, we will be going now.”

Gianna gave a small bow, “Of course.  I will be at my desk in the administrator’s office should you need any assistance.”

Pashera watched her leave and wondered how miss Parasini managed to move in the dress she was wearing. It was attractive to a point, sure, but it was floor length and tight with very little give. She couldn’t imagine wearing something so restricting and sweat inducing all day. Even her armor was less restrictive than that. While mulling over thoughts on the dress, she gestured for the group to head for the nearby elevator. Idly, Pashera took mental notes of the heavy security drones that guarded every hallway. If they were ever in a scuffle- those drones would make things unpleasant.

In nearly perfect synchrony they exited the elevator. A tap-tap march of frowns and firm footsteps. She headed for the nearest quiet looking corner and leaned against the wall, “Alright. I will be taking Liara with me, I am going to attempt to get a semblance of permission from this roadblock. With any luck our target is not alerted as of yet. However, if things go tits-down and we can’t get people to willingly allow us where we need…” She pinched the bridge of her nose while her mind scrambled to pick up ideas, “Tali, can you hack in and get the security override codes for all these drones? I’d like to have them under our control or at least not shooting at us if we kick this hive.”

Tali gave a little nod and opened her omni-tool.

“Excellent. Wrex,” She turned to face the krogan, “I need you and Willians to stay here with Tali. I suggest you go with a cover. Purchase lunch. Make your actions look inconspicuous. Do not get caught. If someone asks… she’s running diagnostics on a suit malfunction.” Pashera passed them a credstick from her pocket, “This has 5,000 credits but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spend it all. I hope they have quarian friendly food but… if they don’t then I owe you lunch Tali.”

Pashera turned to Garrus and held up a second credstick, “Garrus. Alenko. You two are on information gathering duty. Hack things. Talk to people. I don’t care but I want you to discreetly look for information on Peak 15 and how to get there. Perhaps pretend to be looking into the volus merchants as well. If Benezia has someone keeping watch here then we need to make sure she isn’t tipped off. Make sure you grab something to eat while you work.”  Garrus took the credstick from her and his mandibles dropped in surprise when he saw that it read for 50,000 credits.

“Commander… this is..” He started to say.

Pashera held up a hand and shook her head, “I keep these on me for missions like this. Generally speaking it’s bribe money. Of course, if you can obtain the information without gouging my savings I would appreciate it.”

Alenko looked at the credstick and coughed, “Jeez, Commander. That’s… that’s a little much.”

She frowned at them, “In truth, that is partially to purchase us new weapons after this mission. Keep that in mind while you are working to gain information.” Alenko opened his mouth to say something but a small shake of her head made him fall silent. She tapped her comm, “Joker, I can see that you’re patched in. I know everyone has been missing the improved rations we’d had, so if Tali finishes early then she, Wrex, and Williams will bring something back for you and the rest of the crew, okay?”

“Uh.... okay, Commander.” Joker said in a surprised tone. It was obvious that he hadn’t counted on her acknowledging his presence. She’d seen the icon for a watcher flick on in the corner of her visor right after she left the ship, and she’d been hoping it was Joker and not the Doctor.

Pashera opened her omni-tool, “You should all be receiving a datapack.” She watched as everyone’s omni-tools flicked or chirped as they received messages before she continued, “The datapack contains two sounds that link to our channel,” She tapped at her omni-tool and a small bird chirp came over their comms, “this  sound is to be the signal to return to this location. There is no rush- no emergency. Just begin making your way back here.” She tapped at her omni-tool again and a low warbling whistle could be heard, “This is a signal for an emergency. It will trigger a tracking program that it’s linked to. The program with activate on the omnis of all team members, so only sound it when you need it. If I or anyone sounds this, drop what you are doing and proceed to the origin of the distress call.”

She looked around the team, “Everyone knows what they are doing?”

Nods.

She nodded back, “Then I suggest we begin.”

With that she pushed from the wall and let her steps carry her along the walkway. Liara tagged along beside her. A tiny frown flickered over the asari's face every now and then and she was pale. Pashera pulled the asari aside and sat her down next to a planter.

“Liara,  I know you said that you wanted to face her, but if this is too much for you… the option to head back to the ship is still open.”

Liara began to wring her hands; a habit she seemed to have picked up from Tali.

“I don’t know, Pashera. No… No. I’m okay. Really. I’m just a little nervous,” Liara said shakily.

Pashera knelt in front of her and took Liara’s hands, “I know this may not mean much but I will be here. As friends we will face this together. I know it may be difficult. There is a trial ahead, but I know you are strong. And… should the worst come to pass. I will do what I can to guide her soul. Do not let this taint your memories of her.”

Liara gripped her hands tightly, “....Thank you. I… I won’t. I’ll try to always remember her… the way I knew her.”

They both shared a small smile before Pashera pushed from the ground, “Alright, my fair lady, I will leave the choice of where and when we eat, up to you. We can talk to the administrator of this _galauja karanā kṣētra kā_ of ice *or* can put aside listening to whatever corporate politics we’re about to face and  find somewhere to eat.”

A small smile pressed over Liara’s face, “galau…. That one is new. I’ve been trying to learn your language but…”

Pashera blushed and rubbed the back of her neck, “ _Galauja karanā kṣētra kā._ It’s probably a terrible way of putting it. My dad used to say it when he was angry at the ground. I think it literally translates to ‘damn ground’..... he was never a very good farmer but he tried.”

“Ah. I see. Well I think eating first might be a good idea. I… I don’t really have any preferences where we go though.”

With a critical eye, Pashera looked over the building and what it offered. It was a full facility with a few small cafes, food stands, and a bar.  Her lips twitched as she looked over her options. When she saw a food cart that boasted fresh vegetable options, she gestured to it. “How about there?”

The asari gave a nod, and together they headed towards the stall. Nearby, a turian guard was shifting nervously. His eyes flicked to watch people passing by and an idea formed in Pashera’s mind as she watched him. Placing a hand on Liara’s arm, she leaned close and spoke casually, “Why don’t you order for yourself and I’ll be back in a minute.” She held a credstick up for the confused looking asair. Once Liara had taken it, Pashera straightened and carefully shifted her expression. At one point early in her career she’d gone through a specialized training course. Actually, she'd taken as many courses as possible, but now it was time to put a very specific learned skill to use. With calculated steps, she sauntered towards the turian.  When close enough she leaned her back against the wall and kept her gaze carefully diverted. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that he was shifting more and she could almost smell how nervous he was.

It didn’t take long before he muttered, “I’m on duty here, Spectre. You’re going to get me fired.”

She took a deep breath and forced a smirk over her face and she glanced at him, “Fired? Or fired-up?”

“Did-did you just hit on me?” The guard asked; his voice pitching high with his nervousness and his secondary tones nearly screeching his nervousness.

Pashera gave a sultry giggle, “Oh, handsome guy like you? Of course.”

“I-,” He coughed and straightened his posture, “If Sergeant Stirling catches me talking with you, she’ll-- I don’t know. Crush my trachea with her brain or something. Please leave.” The guard looked around and stretched his neck nervously. Pashera watched and thought over what he’d said. His reaction was interesting- he displayed interest but he was possibly too afraid of biotics to pursue. The turian was obviously terrified of the Sergeant. _For a guard he seemed far more scared than he should be. Possible phobia?_ Time to change tactics.

She pushed away from the wall as if she intended to leave. Instead of leaving though, she turned and in a swift move had him pinned against the wall. A move, it seems, he had not expected. It was impressive to see a 6’11 turian cower from a 5’4 human female- and cower he did. She walked her fingers up his chest and hmm’d under her breath. When she spoke, it was in a carefully pitched voice with a slightly breathy quality, “Oh, I don’t know about the Sergeant, but I’m sure if you thought _real_ hard, you could think of a reason for *me* not to kill you.” She purred out her words and she could hear a panicked keen from him.

A shift in his balance as tried to get to his gun- she grabbed his wrist with her free hand and pressed her hips against him more firmly. “Struggle, and I will show you the fastest way to your heart.” Her fingers glowed with her biotics briefly as she ran them up his chest. Fingers stopping just below where his cowl ended and the turian heart was located.

His keen was louder and he gave an audible whimper, “I don’t really know anything ma’am. Some of the other guys do side jobs for the administrator though. I-I only do what Captain Matsuo says though.  Uhm…” His eyes flicked towards her hand that remained over his chest, “There’s a krogan at the hotel. A Mercenary by the name of Inamorda. I don’t know why he’s here. I… that’s all I can think of.”

With a smile she patted his chest- he winced each time.

“See? That was not difficult,” she said as she let go of him completely, “I was not lying when I said you were handsome. If anyone asks, I suggest you tell them I was propositioning you.”  Her eyes roved over him as she checked to make sure she hadn't actually harmed him. Besides looking shaken, he had no injuries. She stepped back, “Should you ever wish to grab a drink with me, I would not be opposed.”

The look of sheer terror on his face at the prospect nearly made Pashera bust into laughter. She gave him another smile and about-faced to head back to Liara. The asari had yet to order. She stood wide eyed at the food cart watching Pashera. When close enough the asari asked, “By the goddess, what did you do to that poor boy? I’ve never seen a turian that terrified before. He...he looked to nearly mess himself with whatever you said before leaving.”

Pashera took a moment to look over the menu before answering in an innocent tone, “I have no idea to what you may be implying. I was simply asking if he would like to get drinks sometime.” Her lip twitched as she fought down a smile and looked towards the salarian who ran the food stand, “I will take a _drashrabble_ wrap please.” Liara ordered as well and soon they sat down at a nearby table.

Liara leaned forward, “Alright, I know you aren’t telling it all. That poor guy keeps looking over here like you’re about to turn into a _yak-shi_ and suck him dry.”

“Yak-shi?” Pashera asked before taking a bite of her wrap.

“Something similar to the human ‘googyman’ or whatever that thing is. Don’t change the topic,” Liara huffed. “Plus, you acted really strange back there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that… sexual.”

Pashera raised a brow and took a moment to swallow before she finally responded, “I was… using some specialized training to flirt and gain information. However, he displayed a situational fear that I used to my advantage. In short, I threatened him. I suppose since Joker is patched in, he saw and could tell you what happened. Speaking of which, Joker, is it possible for you to find info on the Krogan he mentioned?”

 _“Already on it, Commander. …. And Commander? You are terrifying. Please don’t ever flirt with me. I’m not sure I’d survive the experience,”_ Joker’s voice piped in her comm.

Since Pashera’s mouth was full of food, she neglected to respond. Liara began poking at her own food with a rather perplexed look over her face. After a few moments of amiable silence, Tali’s voice came onto the comm in a hushed tone, “Commander, I’ve finished the, uh, suit calibrations. Did you want us to run food to the crew now?”

She wiped her hand on one of the small napkins before tapping the button on her headset to reply, “Have you all had the opportunity to eat yet?”

It was Wrex who grumbled a sour reply, “ _No_.”

“Then take the time to sit down for a meal. It won't kill the ship crew to wait another few minutes before you start getting them their food. Tali, I noticed that the vender where Liara and I got our food offers a triple sanitized quarian friendly fruit blend. I’m unsure of the quality, but their other food so far has been appealing.”

Tali’s voice was a breathy squeak, “Thank you!”

Pashera frowned and looked towards where the group was advancing towards them. Unsure of the cause of Tali’s strange tone, Pashera watched them as they advanced to the booth and began ordering. Since everyone still looked fine she resumed eating.

Her meal was finished before Liara’s and she sat patiently waiting and looking over the trickle of data that Joker was uploading for her. At first none of it was useful until she pieced together that the krogan was waiting for a package of sorts and the contact was a hanar.  She gave a soft snort of amusement at the idea of a hanar smuggler before sanding with a stretch.

“I will return shortly,” she said down to Liara as she gathered up her trash. Pocketing the unused napkins out of pure habit she looked around for a trash tube. To her luck, the harassed looking guard was standing next to the nearest t-tube and she headed for it. As she walked she could hear the soft fear-keen than he began to make. His eye flicked wildly, but he stood his ground as she approached. It was difficult to keep her face neutral as she passed him and began slowly placing her items in the burn bin. As she worked she spoke casually as if speaking to the nearby wall, “The krogan is expecting a smuggled package. Hanar contact. I do not know more. Perhaps you can earn a promotion, Handsome. Good luck and Spirits guide you.”  She finished with the last item of trash and walked to one of the food carts to order a small fruit drink. On her way back past him she flashed him a small smile. The guard no longer looked quite as terrified and his fear-keening had, thankfully, stopped.

 

~~~

 

Pashera sat stiffly near a steaming rock display while brooding. In all honesty, she was livid. For nearly thirty minutes she’d sat and listened to the salarian Administrator, Anolis, throw underhanded insults at her. All to ultimately tell her that there was a blizzard and no one was allowed to leave. It had taken far more self-control than usual to keep her temper in check as she stalked out of the office.

After a few minutes the steam began to ease her anger as she sent tiny biotic pulses out to make it swirl and dance. A tiny chirp from her omni-tool alerted her to someone requesting a private message channel. When she checked she saw that it was Chakwas and she accepted.

 

**===***===**

**Connecting…..**

**Connection established.**

**KC:** I didn’t think to warn you, but your leg isn’t completely healed. Try to avoid exposing it to cold. Cold will slow the nanites down and prolong the healing process and possibly cause a great deal of pain.

 **PRS:** Alright. I noticed that it was feeling painful. I will keep a careful eye on my suit’s temperature setting. I am not sure the thermal control can fully keep all the chill out.

 **KC:** Well, just try. Thank you for the food btw. I think that was a good move with the crew.

 **PRS:** I figured. I had overheard more than one person lamenting that we no longer had that stupid food cart in the hold.

 **KC:** Hah. You mean you heard Alenko and Joker loudly whining.

 **PRS:** Perhaps.

 **KC:** Alright. Well, I’m disconnecting now. Good luck and for heaven's sake- don’t get hurt again.

**Chat DISCONNECTED**

**===***===**

 

Pashera closed her omni-tool with an amused shake of her head. She returned to amusing herself with swirling the steam. It was easier than thinking of how angry she’d been and how she was beginning to feel more than happy to kill everything and light it all on fire. Anything warm would be fine with her at this point. Her leg was aching fiercely.

To her left, Liara gave a gusty sigh, “Well that meeting was just awful, but these rock heaters are truly brilliant. I know the suits are supposed to have thermal control but I feel like my face is going to fall off from how chilly it is.”

Pashera glanced at the asari and nearly laughed- the girl had hugged herself to a rock like a large blue lizard and looked like she might fall asleep. Garrus and Alenko approached and after a minute of looking over the asari Garrus settled near her on another rock.

Alenko grinned and rubbed his neck, “He’s been non-stop bitching about the cold. With the way he carries on, I don’t know how most of the other turians manage to stay here.”

Pashera opened her mouth to respond that the group’s suits were not specifically designed for serious weather shifts like this, but she was interrupted.

WHUMPF.

The loud noise had been Wrex settling himself over a heater-rock as well. This time Pashera couldn’t help but laugh. She hid her smile behind her hand as she looked over her squad. Her three alien crew members looked like a group of brightly colored sunbathing lizards.  Tali sat nearby and leaned carefully against one of the rocks with a pleased huff. For once the little quarian’s omni-tool was closed and although Pashera couldn’t be sure, she thought the quarian’s eyes might be closed.

Williams joined them as well, taking a seat near Alenko to the right of Pashera.

Pashera returned to what she’d been trying to say earlier, “The guards here have special suits designed to work in low temperature environments. Our suits are designed for a wide range of environments. This means we will survive but probably lack the comfort a suit like theirs would provide.”

Alenko frowned, “I feel like I should know this but I wasn’t aware that there are different suit types.”

Pashera forced away another smile and wrinkled her nose while she pushed more steam around with her biotics, “Of course there are, Alenko. The same way all _miraja'ī_ ,” she paused to search for the right word, “uhm, jackets are not the same. Some jackets are for wind and some are for snow or rain. The same applies to armour.  Our armour is... for lack of a better term- basic. Built to help us survive fighting and offer only the minimum protection against extreme elements.”

“I see,” Alenko said while scratching at the stubble on his jaw, “I guess that makes sense. Heh, learn something new every day, Commander.”

“Indeed,” She said as her gaze drifted over the group, “I suppose while these three warm up you may _discreetly_ report your findings, Alenko.”

“We didn’t find much,” Alenko said while shifting to look over something on his omni-tool, “Garrus spoke to an old turian mechanic near the garage. Between him and the scuttlebutt, it seems that there is some sort of… emergency up on one of the peaks.” His eyes darted around before he looked at her and gave a slight nod before continuing, “The volus merchants seem to have some shady dealings with a few of the locals but really it seems to be nothing more than food imports that people don’t want taxed. Synthetic Insights has been shut down by the administrator. And lastly, a Matriarch came through with some rather large crates a few days ago. It seems that to get anywhere beyond this section of the building we’d need special passes though…”

Pashera leaned back on the rock. Warmth radiated through her while her mind went over the information he’d given. Useless mixed in with worthwhile. They now knew the location of the garage and that the Matriarch probably brought geth with her. A safe bet with the crates. Her eyes drifted to the giant window nearby. The world outside was nothing but a white swirl thanks to the blizzard. If one of the outer peaks were having issues- it wasn’t surprising given the weather.

“Interesting,” She said softly as her muscles relaxed from the warmth.

Alenko ran a hand through his near pristine hair and sighed, “Sorry, Commander. It seems everyone here has non-disclosure agreements and management warned them not to talk to us. Though someone did say we might want to try talking to Lorik Qui’in at the hotel, but they didn’t say more. Even money couldn’t budge them.”

She opened her mouth to reply but the tingly sensation of a sneeze distracted her. Sitting up quickly she brought a hand to her face.

SNERK.

Her eyes were watering as a series of more sneezes came.

SNERK.SNERK. SQUEEK. SNERK. SQUEEK.

As she fought off more sneezes, her free hand dove into the pocket she’d stuffed the napkins into. For once she was appreciative of her strange habit to reflexively hoard the stupid things.  Holding the napkin over her face, she blinked and looked at her team. Everyone stared at her but Alenko, who had doubled over laughing.

SNERK.

Tali’s large white eyes were wide in her mask as she asked, “What… what was that? Commander? Are you okay?” She now stood a decent ways away- having jumped away at the first sneeze.

Pashera suffered through another series of sneezes before she could answer, “Who –SNERK- fucking- SQUEEK- was near-SNERK SNERK- some _kambakhta_ fucking- SNERK- lavender?”

Her eyes were watering and Alenko had to sit on the floor he was laughing so hard.  Pashera made a rude gesture with her hand before bracing her leg on the bench and trying to reach one of the ankle pockets. Eventually she finally felt the small packet  and pulled it out. The bright pink of the allergy relief stim was offensive to her already watering eyes.  Deftly, she popped the stim into the distribution unit of her suit and hoped that it would act fast. A few more sneezes later she was able to put away the napkin.

Wrex’s eyes followed her every move and she wondered what he was thinking. Garrus was attempting to look politely disinterested but she could see the amused twitch of his mandibles as he resettled himself on his rock.

Pashera rubbed under her eyes with a sigh as she finally answered Tali’s question, “Sneezing, Tali. It is called sneezing and it is a miserable reaction that some creatures have with allergies. I sneeze worse than most. Get hiccups if I take the wrong allergy medication to counter it.  There are few things that I am allergic to, but a common earth flower called Lavender is one.”

It was Williams who fidgeted nervously while hiding a hand behind her back, “I, uh, I tried a perfume at the hotel store, ma’am.  It *might* have been lavender. Sorry, ma’am.”

“No,” Pashera sighed and shook her head, “It is fine, Williams. I was simply caught off guard.”

SNERK.

Annoyance at the last sneeze crossed her face as Alenko dissolved into another bout of laughter.

“Oi, you can stop laughing you _gaand_.”

“ _Commander_ ,” Joker piped in over the comms, “ _I just wanted to let you know that I got those squeaks on record._ ”

Her brow raised, “I see.” With a small shake of her head she sat back down and leaned against the rock while muttering under her breath. “You all suck daisies.”

 

~~

 

“Afternoon. Sit down, have a drink. What can I do for you?” the turian with stark white clan marking said loftily in his rich voice. He was the only turian in the area, so she hopped that he was indeed Lorik.

Careful to mind her injured leg, Pashera slipped into the empty seat that the dark turian had gestured at. He was lounging in a relaxed posture but his eyes were alert and she could see the hints that he was, in fact, anything but relaxed. Slowly she clasped her hands together on top of the table and met his gaze. Brilliant blues against stark greys.

“Lorik Qui’in?” She said after a few minutes of quiet staring.

He shifted slightly to look her over as well as he answered, “Yes?”

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes flicking to where his free hand was hidden. Focusing her gaze beyond him she forced a polite smile, “I am sure you are aware of who I am.”

“Yes. You are the Spectre that just arrived. What could you possibly want with an old turian like me?”

Her gaze snapped back to him as she picked up a faint but distinct smell.  The cleaning oils that turians preferred to use on their guns was a scent she knew well from Garrus’ own guns.  Now his strange posture made more sense. She leaned forward slightly, “I wish to ease your mind so that you may put away your weapon. I am not here for you and so far- have no reason to be. However, I was told you could be of some assistance to me.”

Lorik’s mandibles flared out with his amusement, “Guns are not allowed on non-security personnel.”

Her eyebrow twitched, “I said weapon, not gun. But we all know that there is always a way to smuggle items in somewhere. You seem to be… on edge. Perhaps we can exchange favors?”

For a moment he looked over her shoulder before his hand came up empty from his side.

“I think that would be acceptable. How fortuitous that you are so… accommodating,” He purred out. His tone had changed from being guarded to being downright sexual. Pashera leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest, “So, Mr. Qui’in, what can I do for you, and in return, what can you do for me?”

Lorik took a swig of his drink before responding, “I’m the manager of the local Synthetic Insights office. For the moment, at least. You see, Mr. Anoleis closed my office. He claims to be investigating reports of my corruption. …The administrator is an interesting man. He has become quite wealthy since he took direct control of rents.”

“I see. He is attempting to pin his corruption on you.”

“Indeed,” He said as he tapped the side of his drink absently, “I managed to acquire evidence of Anoleis’ actions. However, his hired goons are ransacking my office to find it as we speak. I have the feeling though that you are looking to go places you currently cannot. Since Mr. Anoleis would be disinclined to allow you to wander from this port, I offer a deal. If you recover the evidence from my office I will give you my garage pass.”

Pashera worried her lip while thinking, “I see. I do not wish to appear rude but that does not seem to be an equal trade. However, I am low on time and from the sound of it- you may be as well.  I will accept this. I assume you have some sort of plan.”

He gave a dry chuckle, “I do indeed.”

Pashera scanned the room with her eyes. His voice was almost hypnotic in its attractiveness. She spotted a few of her team members attempting to mingle. Alenko and Liara had drinks, and  aside from the armor, they looked like a chatting couple on a date. Wrex was propping up a wall while glaring around him. She returned her attention to the turian in front of her as he continued speaking, “However, there is one other—what is that charming human expression? ‘Fly in the lotion?’”

She blinked slowly at him. To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t sure the proper term either as she’d never heard the expression.  Lorik did not wait for an answer, “Violence against Mr. Anoleis’ thugs may be necessary. He has members of Hanshan’s security team searching my offices. He’s paying them under the table. Ms. Matsuo is, hm, unaware of their outside employment.”

Pashera’s mouth formed a thin line, “I see.  I will focus on recovering the evidence for you. With luck, a conflict will be avoided.”

He leaned back in his chair with a pleased expression, “Excellent.” Lorik’s hands padded at his pockets before he pulled a few items out and slid them across the table towards her and said, “Here is my pass into our offices. It will activate the elevator. The evidence is on my office computer. This OSD contains an encryption key to access it. Slide it into the drive and it will auto-execute.”

She gave a stiff nod and gathered up the items as she stood.

As she began to walk away he called to her, “Oh and Spectre? Do try to keep blood stains off the carpets, would you?”

She hissed a sharp breath of air in her annoyance without turning around.

~~

Pashera stood tensely over the now still body.

Most of the mission to retrieve the evidence had gone smoothly. She’d managed to talk the team of people ransacking the office into simply leaving. Amazing what a Spectre with a full team of ‘badasses’ could do for intimidation. The data retrieval had also gone well. The problem had arisen once they were finished and on their way out.

The office doors had slid open to reveal the tiny blond Sergeant Sterling waiting for them with a full team.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, Shepard,” she’d said with an ugly smirk.

“I am a Spectre and well within my rights, Sergeant. I will within my rights to eliminate you if you do not stand aside,” Pashera had said quietly. Very few people would have noticed the strange quirk to her wrist as she spoke.

Sterling had not.

The Sergeant lunged, biotics glowing, and Pashera flicked her wrist to activate the blade fabricator in her omni-tool as she brought her arm up in a swift punch. Sterling impaled herself. Hazel eyes wide as a small gurgle escaped the blond cop’s lips. Death had been swift for the woman, and her squad of corrupt cops had been taken down almost just as easily by Pashera’s crew.  The battle was so short it was almost non-existent.

Gripping the girl’s shoulders, Pashera guided her down to the floor. Her gentleness didn’t really matter since the eyes had already become glossy with death. Not yet darkened. Wide in disbelief. A soft hiss sounded at the omni-blade disengaged from the tool and fell to the floor with a clatter.

Pashera pressed the eyes closed as she knelt over the body to pray, “Land Mother, this ground is cold like this one’s heart. I ask for forgiveness for her deeds against others. May her journey on the star road bring her peace. I ask the same for the others who have passed this day. Great wind, guide them as they travel and perhaps grant them wisdom.”

Nearby, Williams leaned against the railing while checking over her weapon, “Huh. That’s a new one, ma’am.”

Wincing at the twinge of pain in her leg, Pashera stood, “New in the sense of being heard by your ears. Not new in its plea.”

“Huh. …Can I ask a question, ma’am?”

“You may.”

Williams holstered her gun, “You mentioned the ‘star road’ instead of the ‘long road’- what’s the difference?”

“There is none.” Pashera said with a small shrug, “The star road and the long road are the same. It is the in-between here and there.”  As she spoke her hands waved slightly. Pointing no particular direction but still trying to emphasize her point.

“So, like… you don’t believe in a God? Or heaven?” Williams looked tense as she spoke. A tiny crease began to form between her brows.

Pashera gave the woman a small smile, “I do. Simply not in the same manner as your belief. My… religion is formed over the belief that, in a way, all beliefs and religions are valid. Through a person’s faith they choose where and how to travel to their next destination. There are many paths on the long road-- each of them as valid as the next. Just because one doesn’t travel the same path… does not mean their path does not exist.”

Willaims crossed her arms and leaned back, “Seems a little preachy of you, ma’am.”

“I did not intend it to be so.”

The gunnery chief turned around and looked over the railing for a few minutes before sighing, “Sorry, Commander. It’s hard not to be on edge about my religion all the time. Have to remind myself that you aren’t attacking mine by having yours.”

Pashera walked to stand next to Williams, “It is fine, Ash.”

“Commander,” Alenko said while walking to join them, “If your religion is believing that all religions are correct and guiding others- what do you believe will happen when you go on your journey?”

With a frown, Pashera ducked her head, “That is not an easy question to answer.”

Wrex was going through the pockets of the dead bodies with Tali but they were both paying attention to the conversation. Garrus leaned against one of the planters nearby  and Liara joined in, “I’m curious as well, Commander.”

Pashera sighed and opened her mouth.  After a few seconds of not being able to say anything she shrugged, “I have been told I am too closed off, but I am unsure if I can actually… put to words what my answer is.”

Williams tilted her head with a smirk, “Oh I’m sure you could if you tried.”

“Indeed. …Fine. I believe that I do not deserve peace. My actions in this life are beyond absolution. It is my belief that I will be doomed to an eternity alone. I will wander the star road. Trapped.  Able to possibly act as a protector and guide to others but unable to move on myself  and find my proper path.”

Laira shifted nervously nearby and Williams looked away. Alenko frowned as he spoke, “That’s pretty grim, Commander.”

Pashera turned and began heading slowly down the stairs, “Yes, Alenko. I suppose it is. Hence my hesitation to share that very personal of opinions. We should be going though. The sooner we are able to deliver this evidence, the sooner we can attempt to reach the Peak.”

Tali hugged an arm over herself. “Human religions are so complicated,” She said in a quiet mutter.

Pashera let out a small laugh, “Indeed. And varied. There are many religions spread over earth. Many believe themselves to be the only true religion. This has caused many wars and many deaths in human history.  People would kill in the name of their gods. It is… saddening. There is one that I look to sometimes. The goddess of Earth’s moon. Though I do not pray to her- she is my favorite. She shares my mother and brother’s names. In my family- the first born child is always named after a god or goddess of the moon. My grandmother was Luna. My mother Selene. My brother Artemis.” Pashera’s step faltered and her hand strayed to her chest.

She was saved by her thoughts as the elevator swung open and they all piled in.

~~

Ashley Williams was conflicted as she walked behind the Commander. They were heading to deliver the evidence and the commander’s words still rung in her head. Here was a woman who prayed over anyone- good or evil and yet she still found her own actions too deplorable to ever be pardoned for. It was an interesting view.

Ashley rubbed her hand over her tightly bound bun of hair and sighed. She was a woman of faith and god. Many people thought it strange to believe in god when there was ‘space’ but really all it told her was that she should believe more. It was just more proof that there was ‘something’ out there.  She sighed. She had been annoyed with the commander before for constantly parading around her weird religion. Now that the commander had explained it- it actually made a weird sort of sense. Ash wasn’t going to give up her god anytime soon, but it was almost a comfort to see that the commander’s religion was not in competition. It was like a pleasing parallel.

Her hand wandered to her neck where she wore a small cross with her dogtags. She’d always believed in heaven.  Sure she’d never thought of the ‘how to get there’ but she liked the way the commander approached the issue. It was sweet. Weird but sweet.

Ashley stared at the commander’s back in thought.

~~

The doors opened to a smarting assault of bright neon pink.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself. Parasini, Noveria Internal affairs,” Gianna Parasini said in a no-nonsense way. All previous polite sweetness was gone from her voice.

Pashera stared at the brightly clad cop with narrowed eyes, “Explain.”

Gianna gave a curt nod before launching into her explanation, “The Executive Board knows about Anoleis’ corruption. I’ve been undercover for six months. I want you to convince Qui’in to testify before the Board. With his evidence, this planet can run profitably again.”

“Hm,” Pashera said while looking over the outfit again. She wondered if it was part of being undercover or if the woman chose the outfit willingly.

Giana gave her a strong smile, “In case you were wondering- the outfit wasn’t my choice. I hate skirts and this thing is murder.” Her friendly nature faded again as she continued, “Listen, I’m not a big fan of this. You Spectres play fast and loose with the law, but if you help me I can help you. You need a pass right? I can get you that if you can just get Qui’in to testify for me.”

Pashera remained silent. Her eyes drifted to stare at the wall nearby as her mind went over facts and issues. Novera was a bundle of complications, and she was beyond getting tired of untangling all of it.  Crossing her arms over her chest she finally responded, “I will attempt to convince Mr. Qui’in to assist your investigation.”

“Thank you,” Giana said. Tension began to trickle from her shoulders, “I need to get back to my desk before he realizes I’m gone. I’ll be there if you manage to convince him.”

The so called ‘undercover’ cop, sashayed away and Pashera watched the alluring swing of the pink latex clad hips for a few moments before snapping to attention and turning to the group.

“Liara. Williams. I need both of you to follow her. Attempt to remain unseen. Joker, I need you to run a check on her credentials. I do not wish to hand over evidence to a possible trash egg.” Liara and Williams headed off as Pashera held up the disk with the evidence, “Tali. Alenko. Garrus.  You three are in charge of carefully accessing and copying the data on this. I want to make sure it is evidence as Lorik has said. If it is not… I will be most displeased.”

She looked to Wrex, “Wrex, I want you to cover me as I go negotiate with Mr. Qui’in.  Keep the same distance as last time but keep alert.”

Her feet carried her along the hallways until she finally reached the large open café area where the older turian sat waiting. Lorik’s grey eyes were on her immediately; a tense expression on his plated face. She gave him a brief nod but did not approach.

Leaning against the nearby pillar she scanned the room while waiting for the team on her ship to gather the information she needed. Eventually Joker sounded through her comm, “Commander, Everything checks out with Parasini. Either she’s so good she’s gotten past the systems or she’s exactly what she says she is. I’m guessing the latter because if it’s the former we’d be in trouble.”

Pashera simply hm’d her response.

She tapped her comm, “Tali, any progress with the data?”

“Yes,” Tali said with a small frustrated huff, “It had some protection but we just cracked through it.”

Garrus cut in, “The data is legitimate evidence, Commander. Alenko has made a copy.”

“Good.” Pashera said stiffly as she finally headed for the waiting turian. She tapped her comm to disconnect from the open channel. Lorik shifted while watching her approach. He looked curious, defensive, and slightly concerned. She hoped that his mood would be towards turning over the needed evidence.

Once more, she slid into the free seat across from the turian.

Lorik inclined his head in greeting to her; the turian equivalent of a handshake. She repeated the gesture before leaning back in her seat and eyeing the room.

“Pleasure seeing you again, Spectre.” He purred, “Any news on that problem?”

Her fingers tapped at the table as she watched people pass nearby, “I have news. You may consider me to be less of a pleasure when I present the dilemma I now hold. There is someone aware of the evidence.” She turned to face him, “An internal Affairs investigator. They wish for you to testify with it. I think you should as well.”

He leaned forward and his secondary vocals made his mood quite clear as a low growl began to come from him, “I see.”

She leaned forward as well and to the best of her ability returned the growl. His mandibles gave an amused flick before he settled back in his chair, “So you are familiar with turians?”

Pashera wrinkled her nose but didn’t turn her gaze from him, “Somewhat. You were attempting to gain dominance. However, age and weaponry do not intimidate me, Mr. Qui’in, and I will need your answer.”

His head tilted as he looked over her slowly, “That would explain why the krogan is so submissive. You know, I knew a man with eyes like yours once….”

Pashera leaned forward with a snarl, “I am sure you did. Do not change the subject.”

Lorik tilted his head slightly. An exposed throat. He was submitting to her politely, so she backed off enough to sit down as he spoke again, “I was not aware I was being given a choice in the matter. You have the evidence. My property. Honestly, I’m not interested in a public spectacle but I assumed you were dictating how I should use it.”

Pashera dusted imaginary dirt from her armour as she spoke, “No. I was offering you a choice.  Although I would prefer you to take the opportunity, I get what I need either way.  I expect you already see that others chafe under Anoleis’ extortion… you would be well respected for bringing him down.”

He gave her the turian equivalent of a scowl, “My employers rely on the goodwill of the Executive Board to work here.”

She hm’ed and leaned back in her seat. Appearing almost fully relaxed as she responded, “Good thing that the internal affairs investigator was hired by them, yes? They were investigating him already. It seems that corruption stealing from * _their_ * pockets does not appeal.”

Lorik downed his drink and nearly slammed the glass on the table, “You win. My employers would wish to remain in the good graces of the Executive Board, so I will testify. Make whatever arrangements you need with your contact.” He growled the last word.

Pashera tapped her comm, “Liara? I need you to notify the contact that Mr. Qui’in will testify. …oh, and if you would be so kind to maybe get a recording if she drags that little urine-child out of his office? I believe that if I was there, I would be too tempted to harm him.”

A dry chuckle drew her attention to Lorik as he lounged in his seat.

“You did not enjoy the company of the administrator?”

She shook her head and tapped her comm to close the channel before speaking, “No. I think it would be simple to say that I did not ‘get along’ with him. He was rather disagreeable when we spoke and I would very much like to shoot his kneecaps and watch him squirm.”

His browplates rose, “I hope I’ve made a better impression.”

A smile tugged at her lips, “You did indeed. It has, for the most part, been a pleasure and I thank you for your time.”

Lorik took her hand, and in a very human gesture pressed his mouthplates against her gloved knuckles. His grey eyes never wavering from her face. Her eyebrows arched up and a very evil joke came to mind.

“A marriage proposal? Mr. Qui’in, I was unaware you felt that way.”

His own brows arched and his confidence tumbled into being flustered, “I-- no--it--”

She laughed, “I jest. Though I appreciate the gesture.” She stood and bowed her head for a moment, “Goodbye, Lorik. Spirits guide you and may the stars watch over your life journey.”

~~

The tired looking undercover cop stretched out her hand, “Listen, Shepard, I was wrong. Maybe not about all Spectres but at least about you. I didn’t think you’d help. Thank you.”

Pashera shook her hand while attempting to keep the annoyance off her face, “It was my pleasure Ms. Parasini.”

“Here,” Giana said as she grabbed a packet off the desk, “These are passes for the garage and a few other areas. I hope they help. Not really my area, but I hope you nail those volus. They haven’t done anything I could catch yet but…” She shrugged and handed over the packet, “Anyhow, I have to finish some of this datawork for the arrest. Though, because of you, I will not have to put on this awful dress any longer. Perhaps I’ll burn it....” She headed for the doors and called over her shoulder, “See you around the galaxy, Commander. I owe you a beer.”

The vile pink dress was finally out of sight when Pashera looked into the packet Giana had given her. Passes to different areas and access cards to outdoors vehicles as well as a few datapads with information on different ‘suspects’ the undercover cop had taken notes on. Pashera felt her eyebrows raise. It seems that her ploy of not giving information had certainly kept people from telling what she was after. The cop seemed to be convinced that they were there for the Volus. She copied over the data to her omni before running a scrubber program on the datapads. No sense in having the information linger. She may not have time to track down or investigate the information right then, but it may be useful later.  When she finished, she looked up at the team. Everyone had take up leaning onto the heater rocks while waiting for her and she gave them a weak smile before gesturing at the window, “We have access to leave the building. It will probably be far more brisk outside. If anyone wishes to opt out of this mission you have the option to do so, but once we are out- there is no going back.

Wrex grumbled as he moved away from the large rock he’d been leaning against, “I don’t like the cold, but you need someone to watch your back, Shepard.”

A communal nod of agreement. Pashera felt her heart clenched painfully- as a commander she was required be distant and hard, but the thought that under her command she might lose one of these people… She shook off the thought as Garrus spoke up, “I’ll agree with the angry lizard on this one.”

Pashera’s head tilted. Garrus had said several different things with his secondary vocals and she almost wasn’t sure she’d heard it correctly. It had been a long time since she’d tried to learn turian but the underlying series of hums had seemed vaguely familiar.  Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him.

~

Garrus flicked his mandibles with his alarm.

On the citadel it had been a common practice to use secondary-vocals to ‘pass notes’ with other turians. Translators were specifically programmed to only pick up the initial language and no outside races ever bothered to learn turian. Of course one could meet the odd asari who knew turian, but it was still very rare. Without thinking Garrus had let slip a series of secondaries and he watched as the Commander appeared to hear and possibly understand them.

The human term ‘oh shit’ may have described that moment.  

Wrex gave a gravelly chuckle and walked past him. A heavy read armoured hand hit his shoulder and the Krogan spoke in a tone that only Garrus could hear at this range, “I get the feeling she understood you, Turian. Then again so did I. You may want to be careful talking to your commanding officer like that.”

Garrus nearly whimpered in distress.

It was certainly moments like this where he was reminded that people were older than him and the world was full of surprises. The krogan moved away and now it was his commander standing in front of him. Her blue eyes were narrow slits as she stared up at him and he felt himself  wanting to shrink back from her. She leaned forward and in very bad turian gave a sharp hum.

{You are maybe in trouble. We speak later.}

Her tone range was a little pitchy but he certainly got the message. He bowed his head, {Yes, Ma’am.}

Garrus tried to pour as many apologies into his secondary vocals as possible, but he knew it was really too late.

~

Alenko  stood looking at the exchange of trills and hums between Garrus and Commander Shepard.

“Uh… Am I missing something?” He asked after the Commander stalked off towards the garage.

Alenko started walking and Garrus kept pace. The turian looked like someone had just told him his dog was dead but he’d have to eat the corpse to survive. Garrus simply shook his head and stayed silent. It was Tali who came up and spoke, “He said something in his secondaries that was, uhm, maybe inappropriate.”

Garrus’ head snapped up, “You speak turian as well?”

Tali wrung her hands as she walked, “Not well. But I like to read and listen to books on record... and, uhm, sometimes there isn’t anything to fix on the ship so I’ve been trying to learn the turian secondary vocals. It… uhm… I…” She fell silent after stuttering for a few minutes.

Alenko looked up to Garrus, “The hell did you say though?”

Garrus let off a small whimper before replying, “I wasn’t aware she spoke turian. I may have back talked her a little. And…” He coughed and felt small, “and possibly... propositioned her.”

Alenko nearly tripped over his feet, “Propositioned her?”

Garrus whined again, “I wasn’t serious. Just being sarcastic. Most humans can’t even discern the secondary. Most say it sounds like a buzz or echo.”

“Really? You mean that strange sort of dual tone is actually more than just a translator error?”

“Yes. Uh, most races can’t understand it if we speak normally. Turains communicate in rapid fire and multilayered sounds. What takes me several minutes to explain with main vocals could be said in secondaries in a matter of seconds. Translators only pick up main vocals though because it would get too confusingfor other races if it picked up all of it.”

Liara walked by with her omni-tool open, “Yes. You can look it up on the extranet. It’s really rather fascinating when you think about it. Many scholars have thought that the multi-tiered communication is a crucial part to the turian success as a military power.”

Williams snorted, “Yeah but why does the commander speak it?”

“ _Because I want to._ ” Said a familiar voice over their comms. Alenko nearly jumped out of his skin and Garrus began making a strange high pitched noise. They could hear Wrex’s laughter from around a corner. Great booming laughs like a tank had decided to learn how to cackle. It was a little unnerving.

 

~~

 

As Pashera stepped into the garage a familiar smell came with the normal oil and metal of the garage.  Dropping to a crouch, she drew her gun. The cold metallic smell of synthetic bodies tickled her nose as her scanning program went dark from a jamming signal.

“Geth. Somewhere nearby,” She hissed at her team. The sound of weapons unfolding was a soft whisper as everyone moved to find cover behind the crates that dotted the room.  

The chilled silence became a cacophony of gunfire when two large geth units unfolded from near the far door. Wrex’s protective roar echoed in the garage when a unit unfolded next to Pashera. She didn’t move as she lined up a shot with her sniper rifle. He tackled the geth with a resounding crunch as she concentrated on lining up her shot.

CRACK.

Pashera’s shot hit the optical receptor on the largest geth unit. Nearby, sparks flew off the metal of the doors. Missed shots.

CRACK.

Her second shot ripped a large hole in the Geth’s chest and it sank to its knees. Silver grey fluid puddling under it from the ripped and damaged pipes.  She tilted her head away from the scope to look to see if anymore geth were active, but the team had downed all of them. She folded her rifle up with a snap and clicked it into place as a bellow sounded from the doorway, “WHAT THE—WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!” Captain Matsuo stood in the doorway with her gun drawn and a small team hovered behind her.

Pashera pushed up from where she’d knelt on the floor and gestured to the crumpled enemy units, “Geth attack, Captain. I would guess that they were left here to prevent possible followers. I suppose it is a good thing someone… innocent did not stumble across them.”

Captain Matsuo sputtered in disbelief, “Geth? You honestly expect me to-- where did they come from?”

Patiently, Pashera tapped a nearby cargo container, “I was informed that Matriarch Benezia brought several cargo containers. I would hazard that is how it was accomplished.”

“The Matriarch?” Matsuo held her forehead and stared at the cargo containers, “I… shit. We did scans of those. But… if they were carrying those machines then there could be a lot of them out there. I-I need to report to the Executive Board. Please excuse me.” She was already tapping at a communication on her omni-tool as she stalked away muttering.

Pashera walked over to the crumpled geth unit that Wrex had tackled. Her hand idly poked at some of the exposed wiring as she thought.

Captain Matsuo had a point—there could be more. A lot more. In fact, Pashera could almost count on there being more.

This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chup Ke Chut Hai - Shut the fuck up  
> Tor mai ke chodho - Get back in your mother's womb  
> Backar chodu - goat fucker
> 
> keelah (Quarian word)- "By the homeworld"
> 
> galauja karanā kṣētra kā - damn land (very vey bad translation)
> 
> Yak-shi - A fabled asari monster. Very similar in looks and tales to japanese yokai monster known as the Kappa. Yak-shi are fabled to suck the victim dry before using the victim's bones to fortify their underwater homes.
> 
> Miraja'ī -jacket, jerkin
> 
> Kambakhta- god damned
> 
> Gaand - Ass
> 
> ((Authors notes: AAAAAAAAAAh. Okay... so.... here we are where a lot of explanations and whatnot are given out. We're edging into the best territory. ♥ Lots of awkward fun coming up. Thank you for reading. I hope my translations weren't TOO bad. I really need to finish cleaning the apartment to find my sketchbook so I can start putting in chapter art again. Ah, I wish I could edit faster because the next chapter is just so... warm and fuzzy. lol It's not. You know that. They're in Noveria. Nothing is warm and fuzzy about Noveria. Is anyone tired of winter yet?))


	16. Frozen In Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's cold. There is ice.

 

Pashera squinted against the glare from the snow as she trudged back to the Mako.

The blizzard was causing more trouble than she would have liked. It was the fifth snowdrift that they’d gotten stuck in. Not for the first time she’d had to hop out with Alenko and Liara to biotically pull the large tank out of the drift and back onto the barely visible road. Afterwards, she had to punch the sheets of ice off the tires that had frozen on when they’d stopped. Even with a helmet, her braid was frozen to her skull by the time they reached the hatch to re-enter the tank, and she was muttering vehemently under her breath.

Tali was in charge of the secondary hatch, and once the cold air had been equalized, she opened to door. Pashera grumbled and took off her helmet; collapsing it with more angry mutters as she sat heavily and set to shivering on the bench.  The inside of the tank was blissfully warm, but it still would take her some time to completely thaw. With her luck, she’d probably have to go back outside again before she’d actually warmed up.

“Commander, we should get going before the tires freeze again…” Alenko said after a couple minutes. She gave a silent snarl in response and made her way to the driver's chair. The mako let out a rumbling purr as it pulled forward.

In all honesty, she reasoned that her mood was almost understandable. For over an hour they’d been driving around in the blizzard. There had been very little issue with the geth that they’d come across but she was still being cautious. Williams and Wrex had been trading off on who got to man the guns and who got to sit next to the heater.  Garrus had been a miserable, silent, and somewhat sullen lump since the exchange.

Pashera tapped the screen for the local map and zoomed it back onto their location. Road beacons had kept them going in the right direction as far as she could tell but she wasn’t sure how much longer the tank would work in the storm. She eyed the map and pulled the Mako into a small tunnel as Wrex gave a mad cackle from the guns. More geth had begun to unfold in the small refuge from the storm.

KUH-BUMF. KUH-BUMF.

Crumpled smatterings of geth now lined the tunnel.  

Pashera sighed and parked the Mako, “Sorry creampuffs but I need a break.  My hands are frozen since none of you _aśakta chōkaṛā_ can hit the ice hard enough.”

Wrex gave an angry hurumph from where he sat at the guns. He didn’t argue though- The first time that he’d attempted to go out and assist, his circulatory system had shut down and he’d gone into a strange sort of hibernation. Pashera had to carry him back to the Mako and there had been a lot of yelling before he admitted that krogan did _REALLY_ poorly in cold weather. Garrus had the same issue. She was sure that if the poor turian had feathers, he’d be all puffy in an attempt to trap heat. That or because of how he’d felt about his earlier ‘slip of the tongue’. Pashera patted Tali’s shoulder, “Watch the scans?”

“Of course, Commander,” Tali said from where she was curled in the secondary driver seat.

Pashera made her way over to where Williams was hunched near the heater. With a grumpy grunt she pushed the gunnery chief down the bench and began to pull off her own gloves, “Lazy… insubordinate… no good and rotten,” She continued to mutter under her breath as she attempted to mold herself to the heating vent. Alenko chuckled as he dusted ice from his armor, “Why, Commander, I thought you said no complaining?”

She gave him an angry glare, “I said *you* couldn’t complain, Lieutenant. And normally I like the cold. Just not *this* cold. Actually, this would be FINE if I didn’t get,” She broke into a long stream of angry curses in almost every language she knew before pulling off her boot and throwing it at him, “That ancestor spirits of a god be damned snow down my blasted boot!”

Alenko looked over the offending item, “When did you break the latch?”

Pashera huffed and returned to attempting to get warm, “Two snowdrifts ago. Have you the memory of when my leg froze where I was standing? The seal popped and the latch broke when I had to punch free.”

The lieutenant pulled a kit from under one of the benches and started working. A shit eating grin was plastered over his face and a stray curl hand fallen over his forehead as he spoke, “You know, it’s not that difficult to fix these, Commander. You could have just asked for help.” He slipped a heater pod into the boot to help dry the inside as he worked.

The glare she slowly turned on him would have stopped the hearts of rabid varren, but she said nothing. It was Liara who mumbled something from where she sat idly poking at her omni-tool, “She doesn’t know how.”

Pashera’s glare turned to the asari now, and Liara blushed a deep purple all the way to her fringe, “Did I say that out loud? Oh goddess, I am _SO_ sorry.”

Alenko snickered down at the boot he was fixing.

Pashera let out a small hiss of annoyance before turning back to the heater with a frown. They were right of course. Even when her family had been alive she’d picked up a habit of trying to do everything for everyone but always neglected to ask for help when she needed it. Over the years she’d usually try to drink away her own problems. Keep it all under a lid. She scowled darkly at the heater while thinking.

~

Wrex watched and listened to the conversation silently.

Always listening.

He had to agree with the others- she didn’t really know how to ask for help. A good leader in that respect, but everyone needed help every now and then. He’d had his own skin saved by others on more than one occasion in his long lifetime.

His head swiveled to watch the commander and then to glance at the scanners. It wouldn’t do to have the enemy sneak up on them even if they were relatively safe for the moment. Once he was sure there was nothing to worry about and that the quarian was keeping a proper eye out, he focused back on Pashera. His beautiful desert flower didn’t seem to enjoy or function well in cold either, but she pressed forward regardless. He wasn’t exactly enjoying her foul temper though. Her bad mood was worse than a thresher-maw with hemorrhoids. Now he vaguely wondered if thresher-maw could even get hemorrhoids. Eating a krogan vehicle was bound to do some nasty damage to their system, right? Anyhow, this would hopefully be the last frozen void-damned planet they’d have to visit for a while.

Wrex blinked slowly as he realized that her posture had changed since the conversation.

She was no longer simply cold and angry. Now the familiar shadow of memory had crawled over her shoulders like the cloak of Armdurragr. He snorted at the thought. It had been ages since he’d even thought of that old bedtime story. His attention returned to his desert flower and he wondered if maybe he could tell her the story. Not that she was a fledgling having trouble sleeping, but maybe it would be something that would take her mind off things.

He stood, the tip of his hump brushing the tank’s ceiling as he hunched enough to walk towards her. Pushing her gently to the side he sat on the bench and gave her a hard stare; still undecided if he wanted to tell the story in front of everyone else or not.

A stream of annoyed mutters came from her as she was moved from the heater but she didn’t protest more than that. Nor did she meet his gaze.

With a slight sigh he chose to remain quiet. Settling against her, he decided that he’d tell her the story on another day perhaps.

Perhaps when he was more sure that she wouldn’t remove his testicals out of cranky anger.

~~

When Alenko finished with the boot, he was amused to find that the latch on her pants had also partially broken. After a steady stream of angry curses he and Wrex managed to wrangle the angry Commander into a position that allowed him to fix the second broken latch without her undressing and losing body heat. The small satisfactory click of the newly installed latch finally engaging made him smile as he looked up to tell the commander that he was done. Instead he saw that she appeared to be asleep and she was hugging the large krogan like a giant teddy bear. A soft snore could be heard  from where her face was tucked into Wrex’s thigh.

Alenko could feel his eyebrows raise as he stared. It was no secret that the commander often found strange places to nap, but the idea that she’d choose the lap of a krogan was a new one. After a few minutes he tapped her leg with the magnetic screwdriver and said, “Alright, Commander. The latch should work now.”

The pale slit of her eyes cracked open like blue sky peeking through a stormy day as she moved to squint at him.

Alenko watched from where he sat as Wrex carefully and very gently sat the commander up. The old krogan had been noticeably… well, Alenko was unsure how to label it but if he had to- he would call it clingy. The mercenary had been sticking like glue to the commander since she’d been injured. A strange turn since rumors were that he’d been avoiding the commander before that.  Alenko’s eyes narrowed as he watched. Maybe it was that the commander had saved the krogan’s life? The actions that the big red lizard took seemed too gentle for that to be the case. Alenko leaned back in his seat, whatever was going was not really his business to be honest. They all loved the commander. A surprising turn to be be sure; they’d all come a long way from the day that she’d walked quietly through the ship in the shadow of Captain Anderson and Spectre Nihlus. Truly, he couldn’t fault the krogan for possibly falling under the commander’s spell. She was like a sun- and if you got caught in her gravitational pull you couldn’t help but be dragged along.  

Alenko absently scratched at the stubble that was starting to grow. He’d forgotten to shave the day before and he hadn’t had time before suiting up because he’d overslept.  Maybe he’d have to finally cave and start using that new razor that his mother had sent him from earth. His parents had never understood his fascination with using ‘retro’ skin and hair care methods. Getting the clearance to carry his shaving kit had been a right hassle too until being assigned the Normandy. He’d never have guessed that Captain Anderson had also been a fan of the retro method.

The hiss of a seal engaging pulled him from his beardly musings and he saw that the commander was on her feet and scanning over the latches with her omni-tool. Double-checking to make sure that everything was sealed correctly. Then she was off. Her helmet was pulled on and she was kicking open the mako hatch to double-check the outside of the mako.

He turned on his comm on reflex and instantly could hear her occasional mutter to herself as she worked.

After a few loud thumps and thwacks she finally popped back into the tank and sat bodily in the driver’s chair.

 

~~

 

Pashera pulled the mako forward.

It had been a pleasant change to get out of the mako and not be met with freezing winds and miserable cold. The tunnel had been doing an adequate job of insulating them from the worst of the weather. She’d checked over the outside of the vehicle and gotten off the smattering of ice that had built up while she rested. One of the downsides for Makos running so hot while they moved is that they would melt the snow- typically a good thing unless you were in a blizzard. The melted snow would nearly instantly re-freeze in a shell over the tank due to the temperatures. They were lucky that the ice hadn't damaged any of the tires yet.

The tunnel opened to sky and clouds. Pashera leaned forward in her seat to stare upwards. The blizzard didn’t seem to be as bad in this area, and the grey walls of a building were visible above them on the hill. She pulled the brake rod and the tank rumbled to a stop. Tali leaned forward as well to look up, “Think that’s it, Commander?”

Pashera gave a gusty sigh before replying, “I hope so. However, with all the ice we will have to stick to the path. The map shows that the road twists around the mountain in a large loop before we reach the entrance. It is likely to be another thirty minutes or so before we reach our destination.” Pashera gently pressed the control rod forward as she shifted gears with her feet and said, “The path up before this had a lot of ice. The tank has a lot of grip but we have still slid a few times. I do not wish to go over the edge of that cliff so I am keeping our speed slow.”

Tali leaned over one of the scanners, “I noticed. A lot of the scanners say the ice is worse in this area.”

Pashera nodded and shifted one of the rods so that they would avoid a rather evil looking patch of ice. They rumbled onwards in silence until the building finally loomed out of the swirling grey of the evening sky. An overturned tank was near the entrance of the building along with several automated turrets. As they approached the turrets swung in their direction and she could see the flickers of light as they began to fire.

“Wrex?” Pashera asked over her shoulder.

“On it, Shepard.”

KUH-BUMF.

The gun fired a shell and the turrets exploded into a shower of sparks. She watched the scanners for a few silent minutes before finally standing and starting to unfold her helmet.

“Alright. Wrex, I need you to stay on the guns for right now. Tali, you’re still on scanner duty. Williams, Take my place in the driver’s seat.  Move the tank if you need to but that damaged one should allow us some cover. Liara,” Pashera tapped a nearby scanning station, “Use this to check the overturned tank for survivors or dangers. Alenko, prep me a batch of heat flairs and heated shield batteries. We don’t know how cold it’s going to be in there and I’m going to need our suits functional. Garrus, you get to come with me since you are the only one half decent at keeping quiet.” She checked over her gun and ignored the soft whine that escaped the turian.

She checked over her suit’s readings as she spoke, “Williams I want you to pull the Mako over to partially block the door once Garrus and I are inside. Then I want everyone to suit up with whatever heating pods this tank has have left and get ready. I’m going in to clear the first couple of rooms before I call you. Let’s game it safe.”

“Play it, ma’am.” Williams muttered from the cockpit as she settled into the driver’s seat.  Pashera snorted and clicked her helmet into place.

When Pashera turned she saw that Wrex was at the door with Garrus. A frown flickered it’s way over her face and she opened her mouth to snap at him when the big krogan spoke, “Just opening the hatch, Shepard. Scanners read that it’s frozen shut and I’m tired of feeling useless. This is something *I* can hit.”

Wrex turned and gave the door a mighty headbutt. There was a loud popping crunch as the ice broke away and the door opened. As Pashera walked past she caught Wrex’s hand for a brief moment and gave it a slight squeeze before hopping down and drawing her gun. Her mind focused on the mission now as she headed for the doorway.

“Commander, wait!” Tali called from the tank doors.

Pashera turned to find the quarian carefully making her way towards her as she spoke, “I finished that program that we talked about before… Anyhow, I don’t know if it works yet, but it’s about as finished as it’s going to get without testing.”

Crouched in the snow they ran a connection with their omni-tools and a friendly chime let her know when the program was settled in and running. After a few moments of thought Pashera said, “If this program needs testing then give it to everyone. I’ll pass Garrus a copy. With any luck it will work but if not… well…”

“Agreed, Commander. The program has a secondary that is linked to my omni. It will gather data on performance and readings. It can be shut off but the more info I can get the better.”

Pashera nodded, “Alright. Get back in the Mako for now, keep an eye on the scanners.”

The quarian scurried off back towards the tank as Pashera turned to give Garrus the program. Once finished they resumed their stalk towards the one visible doorway.  The new program was still syncing with her visor as they entered the room and she hoped it would finished soon. Since her helmet was on to protect her from the cold, it prevented her from smelling anything. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing as she moved with her pistol drawn in one hand and a biotic charge in the other.  Positioning herself to the side of the door she gave a nod at Garrus as he crouched near the door’s panel and began the hack that would open it.

Empty.

Her eyes scanned the gloomy and relatively small room as she hesitantly made her way inside. Once she was sure it was clear she walked over to the next doorway and input one of her own personal jamming codes. She checked to make sure that Garrus was also inside the room before she jammed the door they’d come through and pulled off her helmet with a sigh.

“Alright. We have a few minutes before we need to unlock these. Explain to me _why_ you said what you said earlier,” She said while walking over to a nearby terminal and running a scan  to see if she could hack any relevant data off of it. Garrus had also collapsed his helmet and now he stared at her like she’d asked him to eat a dead vorcha.

The turian shifted uncomfortably, “I’m not sure this-“

“Vakarian, as your commanding officer I cannot have a team member who is so distracted that they may put the lives of others at risk. Explain to me or spend the rest of the mission in the Mako.” She turned to advance on him with an angry glare as she continued, “I will admit- what you said did not bother me entirely but your behavior since then has been inexcusable. You notably missed several shots in the garage and the *one* time you were assigned to guns on the mako you failed to properly obey orders. Now, do I need to remove you from duty?”

His mandibles went slack with shock before he stood straight and gave her a sharp turian military salute- his gun raised in the air by his left hand.  “No, ma’am. I am fit for duty, ma’am.”

When he spoke she could hear the underlying question that lay in his secondaries mixed with the re-affirmation that it wouldn’t be an issue.

Crossing her arms, Pashera leaned her hip against the console she was at and gave him a hard stare, “Speak plainly, Vakarian. As I said, you are not in trouble for your earlier …words.”

Garrus looked away and began running a scan of his own over a console in an attempt to keep from facing her as he spoke, “I wish to formally apologize. What I said was rude and disrespectful but…” She watched as he stretched his neck the way a human would clear their throat before he continued, “I realize that what I said could have implications and I, there is… I’m not sure—I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not some sort of fetishist or anything.”

Pashera could felt her eyebrow rise as if it had become sentient and begun crawling up her face. Attempting to keep her face carefully neutral she said, “If you are not interested, then that is fine, but this is a conversation we will need to have later. Compose yourself and put your mind on the mission.   _Aap budhimaan aur mehnatii hain._ Do not let this become an issue.”

He tilted his head, “It won’t be an issue, Commander. Uhm… It seems unfair that you speak a language that none of us understand though.”

The ghost of a smile flickered over her face as she began to unlock the doors, “One only understands if they take the time to learn or try. If you do not understand me, it is because you do not wish to.”

She tapped her comm, “This first room is clear. Garrus and I are moving to the next one. Move in slowly but watch your flank. We don’t need a surprise.”

“Affirmative commander,” Alenko answered tersely.

Together, she and Garrus crept out of the room like large slinking cats.

WOOSH.

The garage door opened as the automatic sensors picked up the movement. As it rolled upwards there was a gust of air and scent. Pashera let out a small hiss and dodged behind the closest crate. The smell of machines had been almost tangible. When she peeked around her cover a rocket hit nearby and her omni-tool gave a small warning chirp to alert her to the state of her shields as the flickered but thankfully held.

“Krogan on the balcony!” Garrus snarled as he took aim at a nearby geth.

The comforting snap of her rifle echoed out as it unfolded in her hands. Bracing it on the crate she took aim at the offending krogan. Flicking the settings to a toxin shot she carefully took aim at the small space of bare neck skin above his armour; she knew better than to aim for the head or chest. The gun’s kickback pressed her shoulder as the shot fired and hit her target.

A small gurgle as he fell.

The krogan’s body toppled from the balcony when the familiar boom of Wrex’s shotgun joined the fray.  Pashera glanced around to check her team member’s positions before ducking her head back to the scope of her gun and taking aim at a large geth unit that was trying to retrieve the krogan’s launcher.  Crack. Her gun fired off and the geth unit dropped.  Her aim switched to another krogan that was joining the fray, the visor finally syncing with the new program and reading off information that she only half paid attention to as she lined up the shot. However, before she could pull the trigger, a blue glow encompassed the krogan and slammed him upwards into the ceiling with a nasty crunch. Pulling her face from the scope she looked to see Alenko grin and shrug at her as he let the krogan drop back to the ground.

Pashera turned her gaze to the asari crouched against her thigh, taking shielding behind the crate as she fought to change the pistol’s heat sink. A frustrated pout was growing on Liara’s face as she muttered to herself. Kneeling down, Pashera erected a shield over them and spoke softly, “You have it upside-down. Dip to top, flat to bottom.”

A purple blush flared over the asari’s cheeks, “Oh by the goddess. This is so _stupid_. Garrus gave me lessons while you were in the hospital and I did so well. I just thought…”

Pashera simply nodded as the asari continued to nervously chatter. A bitten off yelp echoed from across the room, drawing Pashera’s attention back to the battle. Leaning to glance around the crate, she pulled her own pistol out of its holster.  In a practiced move, she used her cheek to switch her ammo since one hand was busy holding the shield over Liara. Once the impact shot setting clicked into place, she used her outstretched arm as a brace and took aim at a red geth unit that was advancing on their position.

KUMPF.

The meaty sound of the impact bullet was coupled with the harsh clank of the geth collapsing. As she scanned the area for more enemies she gave thanks that even machines didn’t seem to be able to function if you put a large enough hole in them.  The room was clear of all but fallen enemies, and Wrex was carefully going around checking that each was dead.

As she folded and holstered both her guns Pashera called out to the team, “Is anyone injured?”

Williams limped forward with a tight and pained expression, “I got one in the hip, ma’am.”

Pashera nodded, “Alright. I will have you stay here to guard our backs,” She paused and looked around, “There- that balcony.” She gestured to the balcony that the krogan had fallen from, “You can set up there and bunker down. Keep off the leg. Or you may choose to return to the tank.”

Williams gave a tight lipped nod as her eyes strayed towards to exit of the building, “Tank,” she said after a few seconds of silence, “It’s warmer and I can watch the roads, ma’am.”

Pashera bit back the smile that wanted to emerge. She’d never been a fan of micromanaging a team and she found that allowing people to _choose_ kept them on their toes. Allowed them the opportunity to think tactically on their own within a certain parameter.  She looked slowly to Alenko who looked like he was having an internal fight with himself. Although he wasn’t a medic or engineer, he did tend to try and fill those shoes. However, the team had both covered with their assorted knowledge. Liara had a surprising amount of medical knowledge to go with her studies and Tali was an excellent engineer. After a few more seconds he finally came to the same conclusion that Pashera had already reached and he said, “Permission to remain behind as well to administer medical treatment and assist in operating the vehicle, Commander.”

Alenko moved to brace the gunnery Chief, slinging the woman’s arm over his shoulder and using his biotics to lift her slightly. Before he could move off though Pashera stepped forward and tapped the hand that Williams held over the wound, “Show me.”

Something about the way the medi-gel seeped sluggishly between the woman’s fingers seemed familiar and Pashera wasn’t going to let her leave till the wound was checked.

“Aw, skipper, you don’t need—,” Williams started with a grimace.

Pashera raised a hand for silence as she spoke, “Permission granted, Lieutenant. Now, Ash, I will make Alenko put you in stasis and I will force you to show me the wound or you can show it to me willingly. Choose.”

Williams slowly lifted her hand away from the injury.  Blood tinted with swirls of black was mixed with the medi-gel, preventing it from setting correctly.  Pashera knelt down with a frown as she pulled some of the armor away from the seeping wound. “They were using Polonium rounds. Alenko, you know how to treat those?” She asked as she started a scan over the wound.

Alenko looked down at her with a thoughtful frown, “In theory, ma’am.”

Pashera sighed and pulled a pale green stimpack from one of her many packets and popped it into the Gunnery chief’s distribution unit as she spoke, “This will counteract what’s in your bloodstream but the medi-gel will not set unless the wound is treated. You need to scrape off as much of the tainted medi-gel as possible before running a Pulser from one of the med-kits over the wound to burn out the toxin. The pulser will cause burns. Thankfully, we are in no shortage of ice. I recommend packing the area around the wound with clean snow and using the snow and the pulser to clean the area. Use the sterilizer once you are finished and then use a patch instead of more gel. Lingering traces of the toxin will still inhibit the medi-gel from setting.”  Williams’ head fell forward and she started to collapse as the stims started taking effect.

Pashera checked the woman’s temperature as she continued, “She will not be up and about for maybe thirty minutes at the least. For the first fifteen minutes she will burn a fever. Keep an eye on her temperature. Can you handle treating her on your own?”

Alenko gave a stiff nod and picked up the gunnery chief bridal style with the assistance of his biotics. He made his way briskly towards the exit with the tank and she hoped that they had caught the toxin in time. Polonium rounds were nasty business and typically outlawed. Pashera checked over her guns as she turned and started making her way towards the elevators.

“Commander, how do you know so much about treating Polonium wounds? Most field medics don’t even know that much since those rounds are illegal,” Garrus asked as he trotted to catch up. The rest of the group following close behind.

Pashera shrugged, “Batarians made Polonium gas grenades in the Skyllian Blitz. Learned a lot about how to treat the wounds on that mission. Not enough… and inhaling the vapor is... different. I keep a stash of the anti-toxin with me at all times now though.”

Slowly, she pulled out her rifle and opened one of the panels to show the ex-C-Sec officer her ammo types, “I also carry several different toxic rounds in my own guns. Part of why no one is allowed to clean or carry them but me. War and enemies make little distinction on illegal and legal. I do not encourage you to follow my example in this case.”

Garrus and Liara gaped at her as if she’d grown an extra pair of eyes but it was Tali who spoke up, “It makes sense to end a conflict as quickly as possible. I keep my homemade flash-grenades for the same reason. Slightly more legal but still offers an advantage in a fight.”

Wrex gave a gravelly chuckle, “Flash grenades aren’t toxic rounds, kiddo.”

Pashera closed her gun and re-holstered it on her back as Tali gave a stammering response. She could almost hear the quarian blushing through the suit.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aśakta- Weak (anile, atonic, cripple, feeble, incapable, invalid, non-effective, sickly, strengthless)  
> Chōkaṛā- Dog, Man-child
> 
> The Cloak of Armdurragr: Ancient krogan bedtime story. Amrdurragr was a fierce warrior, the best in his clan. When his bondmate and seven children were found dead he vowed vengeance. Before leaving to find the killers he made a cloak from the bodies of his family so that they could accompany him on his quest for revenge. The cloak was very heavy but he vowed to not take it off until everyone was avenged.
> 
>  
> 
> [Author's Note: This probably needs another look over/editing session but I'm happy enough with it to post. I've had the most terrible case or writer's block so I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will come but I hope this tides you over for a while. ♥ Thanks for reading.]


	17. Creatures New and Strange

 

Wrex watched as Pashera sat wearily on some nearby stairs. The young quarian was working to hack a set of overly stubborn doors and it gave time for the group to rest. Not that he needed or wanted it, but he could see the exhaustion that the commander was trying to hide. Her hand occasionally rubbing absently at her still healing leg. A part of him wanted to scoff at the fact that it had been weeks and she was still healing. Humans were so weak and squishy. Another part of him realized that she wasn’t healed and she was up and running full speed regardless of her injury and * _that_ * was impressive.

The turian sidled up to Pashera as she looked over something on her omni-tool, and Wrex resisted the urge to laugh again. The stupid pyjak has nearly pissed himself in fear when finding out that most of the team spoke turian subvocals, but it seems the commander had straightened him out during the short time between leaving the mako and the recent battle. Almost a shame really.

Wrex shifted and wished they had more things to fight. Being still for so long was making him cold again, and although it wasn’t cold enough to make him collapse, he was feeling that creeping tired sensation as the cold settled into his limbs. Giving himself a shake, he silently wished for a battle to get his blood pumping.

“Commander,” drawled the turian, “I’m curious. What other types of ammo do you have?”

Her head came up slowly, and Wrex could see that a small curling clump of hair had escaped the cloth covering that she normally wound around her fringe during battle. Bright blue eyes regarded the turian before she returned her gaze to her omni-tool and said, “I will not say. As a Spectre there is a lot I can get away with and have access to. As an N7 Alliance officer there is a great deal of other items I have authorization to use. And as a paranoid _Mamataamayee vyakti,_ I will not say simply because I do not wish to encourage you.”

Wrex covered his chuckle with noisily stomping in an attempt to get warm but he still saw her pale eyes flick his way. Garrus huffed and leaned over to see what she was checking in her omni-tool. The turian’s mandibles flared and he gave a surprised hum in his secondaries. “Commander, are those readings from all our suits?”

Pashera looked up at the turian, “Yes. I am monitoring everyone’s conditions. A subprogram also feeds into my visor. Currently, I am specifically watching officer Williams. Her temperature suggests that she is inside the tank. Alenko’s suit reads low temperatures, so I am guessing that he is outside of the tank making a visual check on the perimeter. Although her condition is stable, I do worry since the toxin is very… hmm… hazardous due to how it reacts with medi-gel. Her wound will not technically stop bleeding until Chakwas can properly treat and clean it. Coupled with the risk of her blood thinning from the anti-toxin it is important to monitor her condition.”

Garrus shifted uneasily, “Yes, but isn’t that a little invasive?”

Wrex watched as her tiny human mouth puckered with a mixture of humor and annoyance, “Your suits are typically linked to the ship where your condition can be monitored. You were made aware of this when you were given a bunk on the ship. As the commanding officer, I have to codes to access all the information.” She gave the turian a slow blink before continuing, “of course… is it any more invasive than patching into my visor while I am speaking to an admiral?”

The turian leaned back with his mandibles clamped tight against his face,and Wrex watched as he stretched his neck in embarrassment before Pashera looked back to her omni-tool. Garrus missed the grin that slid over her face for a moment before it faded away and she tapped her comm, “Alenko? You need to return to the Mako. Look in the emergency medical kit. There should be several tiny blue stim-tubes. You need to inject her with one. Her readings are in a flux.”

Wrex couldn’t hear the response since it wasn’t an open channel, but whatever it was it seemed to make her relax as she said, “Good, good. Yes. Keep an eye on her wound. If the edges of the patch start to curl it means she is still bleeding and you may need to rinse and burn the wound again.”

Her hand drifted down to rub at her leg again and a flicker of pain crossed her face. The wound must be bothering her more because of the cold. Wrex frowned for a moment before popping open an armour section on his suit’s hip and pulling out a heater pod that he’d activated and shoved inside before leaving the tank. Without speaking, he walked over and unsnapped her leg armour and popped the pod into it. Bright blue eyes stared at him as he worked to re-attach her armour. A small tilt to her head told him that she was curious but her mouth remained closed. Silent. A slow blink was her only response before she returned to watching her omni-tool.

The young asari, Liara, was watching with a tiny frown from where she sat nearby.

 

~~~

 

“ _User Alert. All peak 15 facilities have suffered a great deal of damage. Biohazard materials present through facility. Virtual Intelligence user interface offline_ ,” For what seemed like the hundredth time the female VI voice repeated over the building’s intercom system. Once they’d gotten further into the building it had become increasingly frequent.

“Can’t we shut that void damned thing off?” Wrex growled from Pashera’s left.

Rubbing her temple, she sighed but said nothing. The VI was on everyone’s nerves and the message was too annoying to ignore. If they weren’t in such an unknown area with unknown enemies, she might have been more tempted to stream her music to her comm. Her steps faltered and she looked down at her Omni-tool. It hadn’t occurred to her but it was likely that her private collection had been lost. It was a little foolish perhaps, but she never kept backup files of personal data like music. Sure, she had several designated ‘safe storage’ areas for her hacker programs but it had seemed too selfish to try and backup her rather vast collection of old music.

“Commander?” Liara stood in front of her with an expression of worry, “Is Miss Williams alright?”

Pashera blinked a few times as her mind switched course. Tapping her omni-tool, she checked on the gunnery chief's vitals. “Yes. She is recovering and should regain consciousness relatively soon.”

“Oh… When you stopped walking I assumed something was wrong.”

“I-,” Pashera cleared her throat, “I realized I may have lost my music collection when my last omni-tool was damaged.”

Tali piped up from where she had knelt to hack the panel of a nearby elevator, “You didn’t. I forgot to tell you, but I created a backup for you after we rescued Liara. You seem to get your equipment damaged at an alarming rate and I noticed when you took me along to buy a new one that you didn’t have a full backup source. And Shepard,” Tali glanced over her shoulder, “I’m rigging this with a couple power cells but we won’t be able to take it again until we get the reactors online. This will be a one way trip.”

“Understood, Tali.”

“ _User Alert. All peak 15 facilities have suffered a great deal of damage. Biohazard materials present through facility. Virtual Intelligence user interface offline_.”

The call button for the elevator activated and Pashera stepped forward to raise a shield over the group. It had been years since she’d gotten a surprise package in an elevator but it was not an experience she ever wanted to repeat.

The elevator finally opened. Empty.

With a collective sigh of near relief they all piled carefully into it and it descended. They stepped out carefully, gun drawn and hesitant steps. Wrex bumped her side gently and pointed to a section of floor that looked like something had forced it’s was from the ducts. With a nod, she tossed a proximity alarm grenade with a remote detonator linked into her omni. If it triggered she’d get a reading of whatever it was and could decide if she wanted it dead or not. She’d rather be cautious than dead.

After a moment's thought, she opened her omni-tool and activated the heat sensor in her visor.

Stepping forward she sniffed the air. The metallic tang of geth and something strange seemed to linger in the frigid air. Cold air whipped down the hallway and she wondered if maybe a section was open to the elements up ahead. That would cause issues with her team and they’d need to scout it as quickly as possible. She activated the low vocal setting to her channel and spoke as quietly as possible, “Can anyone identify the smell here?”

Wrex shook his head, “No but it seems familiar. I can’t place it.”

Garrus leaned forward and tested the air like a cat before giving a similar shake of his head, “Sorry, Shepard. My nose is too cold to be able to of use and I can’t taste beyond the ice.”

She nodded and glanced to Tali and Liara. The both silently shook their heads.

Unknown.

Moving into a weary crouch, Pashera crept forward on high alert.

~~

Wrex kicked over the fallen geth before stomping over to where Pashera was crouched in the snow. The geth had attacked as soon as they’d entered a small room with a shattered window. Snow had piled in the room from the blizzard which thankfully seemed to have lightened. He grumbled at the cold but his concern was more for her than himself. She’d had him stay behind with the turian while she approached the room with the others. If it wasn’t for the agreement made for their relationship he would have argued. Spirits knows he wanted to, but he respected her too much and didn’t want to risk whatever he had with her. Not after everything they’d gone through.

Her small eyes blinked as she looked around the room and returned to trying to fix her pistol. It had jammed when a stray shot from one of the geth hit it. Her worry was almost tangent in the cool air and it only increased whenever the smell drifted by. Wrex knew she had a strangely sensitive sense of smell but it was near krogan standards with how good it was.

Pashera growled and took a small mechanism out of her pocket, “I will be another few minutes. That lucky shot nicked the capacitor and it refuses to engage properly. _Nahin mera din_.”

She limped over to a little outcropping of rock and set to quickly repairing the gun. It was dangerous to lack a spare and he wondered why she didn’t carry one besides her rifle which was useless in such a cramped space. He’d have to get her a spare. A good gift for a warrior female.

The smell returned in force and her head snapped up. Hands stilling over the pieces of her gun.  A sound nearby drew her gaze and blue gathered at her hands.

SCREEEEEEEEIK.

A creature burst from the floor with a shriek that could pierce the void itself and Pashera made a strange sound and leapt at the creature like a wild varren. She hit with enough force to send parts of the creature flying and she stood glowing in the carnal wreckage that had once been a somehow living rachni. If it wasn’t for the smell of the creature and frigid surroundings, he’d have said it was arousing. Too bad she didn’t seem the exhibitionist type.  Then again, she had a way of surprising him.

Still, it was far too cold to make any suggestions.

 

~~

 

Pashera stood breathing heavily and looking at the filth that now covered her armour. The reaction to the creature had been more instinct than thought and all around a poor idea in hindsight. When the creature had screeched, it had terrified her and she reacted the only way she knew how-- kill it as fast a possible.  with a grimace, she peeled a large chunk of gore off her armour. This was going to be a total pain in the hindquarters to clean.

Her eyepiece flickered with heat signatures in the nearby ducts.

A flip backwards, hands holding the ground better than her ice and muck caked boots could, she landed on her knees and slid to the group. Raising a shield around them just as more monsters burst from the ground. Crab-like legs. Bodies like a backwards earth scorpion. Two tail appendages that wielded deadly claws. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before, and that was before they scuttled forward and spit a nasty green slime. It hit the shield she held over the group, and she could hear the hiss of where it landed and a familiar strain made her struggle to keep her biotics going. Acid. Of course they had to spit acid.

The group opened fire and Liara added her own shield to cover the group.

It was over and four more puddles of nasty now dotted the room. Pashera dropped her shield and looked over the room carefully for more heat signatures.

Nothing.

Glancing down at her armour, an idea came to her and she walked over to the nearest snowdrift.  Flopping into it, she thrashed around and scrubbed at her armour. It was cold but if she could get the muck and pervading stench off before it dried then she wouldn’t have to worry about the smell keeping her from telling when another creature was nearby.  Once she was near satisfied with the state of her armour she switched to scrubbing her face with the snow.

“Okay… So, Shepard, I gotta ask. Did you actually hiss back there or was that my imagination?” Garrus asked while he and the others walked over to join her.

Pashera stopped mid-motion of cleaning her face. Thankfully her embarrassed blush was hidden behind the flush from the cold snow.  Now that she thought about it, she probably had hissed. It was an old habit that still lingered from her childhood spent with cats as friends instead of people. It was embarrassing that out of all the old habits, that one had to linger.

She stumbled for words, “Uhm… I… yes? Yes. Yes, I did.” Slower now, she returned to the task of trying to get the gore off  her skin as she asked, “Why?”

Tali giggled, “That’s… unusual for humans, right? Okay, I can’t look at her when she’s cleaning her face like one of those space hamsters.”

Pashera gave a mild glare in the quarian’s direction and flicked the last of the melting snow at her, earning her a squeal. Shaking herself off, she sighed and wondered at the state of her headscarf. This one might not have been her favorite but it would probably have to be burned. No way would she be able to get the smell out of the silk. …unless maybe Emily knew a cleaner on the Citadel? Something to look into at least.

“Alright,” She brushed off the last of the snow and looked around the group, “check the rooms and any working terminals for info while I finish repairing my gun. We move in five.”

It didn’t take long to finish the repairs on the gun. As she smacked on the last of the casing, she looked to see Tali kneeling nearby at a flickering terminal. Her omi-tool was open as she hacked in to retreive data. A minute of stillness passed before the quarian huffed and smacked the terminal while muttering a string of quarian curses. The flickering stopped and she resumed her hack.

Pashera wandered over while holstering her gun, “Find anything useful?”

Tali’s response was an angry sigh before she disconnected and stood, “Not really, Shepard. With the power off, this things is near useless. All these terminals are set for evacuation power supply only. It’s a completely separate system. However, I did find data on how to get to the reactors on the roof and how to get the system back online.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, Pashera tapped her comm, “Alenko, status report.”

“ _Williams is conscious, ma’am. We’ve had a couple geth stragglers come up the hill but all in all, it’s clear and quiet.  Blizzard is even lightening up,_ ” Alenko’s chipper voice reported.

“Good to hear. I want you both to be on the look-out. We’ve run into a few strange creatures down here. I’m not sure if they’ve fully escaped the facility but they have been traveling in the ducts. They spit an acid like thresher maws. I am sending you the data reads from my visor. Input it into the tank for a standard proximity alarm.” Her fingers flicked over the omni-tool as she uploaded onto the connective feed and a download notification popped up to notify her once Alenko and Williams received  and accepted it.

“ _We’ll stay on alert. Watch yourself out there, Skipper,_ ” Williams said gruffly. Pain and grogginess was audible in her voice.

Pashera stared at the patch of wall that had been partially melted from a creatures acid spit, but her mind was elsewhere when she spoke, “Williams, check the fourth pocket down in your suit. I restocked everyone’s supplies before we left the citadel. I suggest you use the purple one.”

“ _It’s not that bad, Ma’am,_ ” Williams growled.

“Williams, I am not going to order you to use them, but I know you are lying. Polonium poisoning hurts. Plus, these are N7 regulation pain stims. They will not hamper your senses or slow reaction time. It will simply dull some of the pain. You have them if you need them.” She looked around the group and nodded at them. A silent message that they ALL had them if they needed them.

“ _...fine_.”

“Fine…?” Pashera fought a smirk.

“ _Fine, Ma’am_.”

“Good. Alenko, make sure to keep an eye on her condition. Check the patch regularly to make sure the edges aren’t curling.”

Alenko’s rich chuckle echoed in her ear as he answered, “ _Yes, Ma’am_.”

Disconnecting her comm, she looked over the rest of the group, “Everyone in working order?... Yes? No more interesting finds? ...Pity. Well, lets see if we can find a working elevator to get us to the roof. Keep honed.” As the group started looking for stairs or some sort of elevator, she wandered over to where Garrus stood, “Vakarian, does that visor of yours have a heat sensor?”

He gave a sharp nod and opened his omni-tool, “Yes. I didn’t think to activate it but if they’re in the ducts it would make sense. _Maybe give us an edge beyond your damn sense of smel_ l.”

She ignored the quip in his secondaries and dipped her head in acknowledgment, “They do not show up well with my readings but they _do_ show up when they get close. Then again… I really should upgrade this thing beyond a hacked vision corrector… what brand--”

“Shepard, I got this elevator working!” Tali interrupted from a room upstairs.

Sighing, Pashera started the trudge of the stairs with the others, “Nevermind. Let us just get this over with. I want a hot shower and some tea. Too many of these cold planets. Why don’t they send us somewhere warm? I’m not saying I want to go to a beach, sand gets everywhere but somewhere warm and without ice.”

~~

  
Tali kicked the power junction that she was working on with almost enough force to break toes. If it wasn’t for the suit, she very well might have. Pity the suit only had normal power levels for heating. She was a vicious sort of cold and the machines were just angering her with their refusal to work. Very few of the power conduits had been agreeable enough to start working but this was the last one she’d need before she could enter the core to try and get the system online.

Liara had been left behind to watch for danger. Shepard had left the asari with her to raise a shield over them if something attacked, but so far everything had been a blissful sort of quiet. Well, quite aside from her cursing. Tali huffed and opened a panel to look over the wiring again. Laying on her back she finally spotted the problem. A small fuse had blown and disconnected. Contorting in an odd angle, she was able to reach up just enough to shift some of the wires to bypass the fuse and she was finally rewarded by a hum of power. Closing the panel, she headed over to the VI core that controlled most functions. Liara followed like like a lost pup, eyes darting around nervously as they walked.

A few keys pressed and the floor started to descend, and with it her spirits. Liara’s nervousness was catching. After a few achingly slow seconds she looked upwards and began to nervously wring her hands, “Liara? Can you hold a shield while I work? I know we haven’t seen anything but I would feen better if I knew something wasn’t going to drop on us while I’m stuck rewiring things.”

The asari gave a relieved nod at having something to do, and a shimmering blue shield stretched overhead.

~

Liara held the shield and fidgeted. After a few minutes, she couldn’t stand the silence anymore, “Tali, may I ask you a question?”

The quarian’s voice came out in a muffled huff as she scooted further under the panel, “Ask away.”

“What does your translator come up with when the commander references us?”

Tali’s movements stilled for a moment before she shifted and answered, “ooooh, you mean the few times she’s referred to us as human sweets and delicacies?”

Liara glanced up towards the lip of the hole before crouching down and peeking into the panel, “Is that what it translates to? Mine keeps glitching and telling me she’s referring to organs. ...I really need to get that update…”

“Hmm,” Tali trilled while shifting to peek at her, “why don’t you do it now? We’ve got the spare time.”

Huffing, Liara glanced at the arm with her omni-tool, “I was going to but the Noveria relays are trying to charge me for the usage and I’m NOT paying fifteen credits per thirty seconds of connection time. More-so when they have buffers to make it intentionally take longer.”

With a laugh, Tali rolled over and started working on another set of wires, “I’d give you my patch but it’s in quarian. I can help you update when we get back to the ship is you want. I even have a few old omni-tools that the crew gave me and I can pull them apart to improve the one you have… uhm, if you wanted.”

Liara flushed and almost dropped the shield in her surprise, “Really? I just haven’t had time to update it… that would… yes. I would…”

Flustered, she didn’t complete what she was trying to say but Tali hummed an acknowledgement anyhow. Liara glanced upwards once more before asking, “Why does she refer to us as sweets though? She didn't do it earlier…”

Tali laughed, “Oh, I heard Adams talking with Pressly. Those two are total gossips. Anyhow, apparently Joker put her up to it. They watched some sort of military movie and he dared her to do it a certain number of times. Something about refusing to play the next episode until she did.”

“Really? I didn’t know the Commander was into movies.”

“Yeah, we can patch into parts of Joker’s feed via engineering. A few weeks ago we noticed that they watch a movie together every couple of days. She’s got pretty good taste but no Fleet and Flotilla yet… “ Tali gave sigh that spoke of longing and they both lapsed into silence.

~~

  
Pashera grumbled as she crouched near one of the dead creatures and pressed a handful of snow to her burning shin. They had headed up to the roof to reconnect the landlines Tali had requested but the roof was bitter cold, and the blizzard was in full force near the top of the mountain. They had opened the door the find near a dozen of the foul monsters wandering the area. Yet because both the men were sensitive to cold, she’d ended up having to fight the creatures alone. It had taken a decent amount of time to kill them and at the very last one, she’d tripped over something buried in the now and fallen long enough to get hit by the corrosive acid spit. As the armour had begun to melt, she’d ripped it off and tossed it away but she hadn’t been fast enough-- a burn ran the length of her lower leg and smarted like crazy.

“ _Clear?_ ” Garrus asked over the comms.

“Clear.”

Garrus darted out at her affirmation and began the repairs on the landlines. After a particularly nasty gust of wind, he began to punctuate his repairs with annoyed grumbles and perturbed complaints. She couldn't blame him but that didn’t stop the rising desire to shoot him.

“Got it!” Garrus stood and dashed back to the doorway. She followed as a slower pace. The wind might have been miserable but the bare part of her leg was torn between frozen and on fire. The cold provided a strangely blissful type of relief to the acid burn.

The door slid open once she was close enough and she stomped inside. As she was collapsing her helmet, a scream pierced through the comm.

Pashera went still as Liara’s panicked voice spoke in a rush, “ _Pashera! I mean Shepard! Oh goddess it doesn't matter, we're in trouble! Tali’s almost got this thing working but one of those THINGS are here. I’ve got a shield up but I can’t do anything else without it falling on us!_ ”

“We are on our way. Maintain your shield!” Pashera sprinted for the elevator, the pain of her leg forgotten as she feared for her friends lives.

~~

Liara redoubled her efforts. The shield shimmered brightly with her effort to keep the creature from falling on them.

There had been a blood curling shriek as the creature came leaping down on the shield and Liara had screamed in surprised. The long clawed appendages were stabbing at the shield with surprising strength.

Tali was almost completely beneath the panel as she scrambled to repair and reboot that VI core. Before the creature had attacked, she had mumbled something about trying to bypass the damaged system and come out just long enough to use her omni-tool’s fabrication module to make a couple of strange looking tools.

A small whimper escaped the quarian after the creature gave another scream above them.  Then a thump accompanied a string of quarian curses that only half of her translator knew. It was a very colorful selection and at any other time, she might have admired the girl’s variety.

Liara stared up at the vile creature. Unfortunately, this wasn’t ‘any other time' and she wasn’t sure how long she could hold her shield or how long it would take Pashera to get there.

A blue glow surrounded the creature and it was flung up and away with one final defiant screech.

Gunshots.

When Pashera poked her head over the lip of the core and squinted down, Liara almost cried with relief.

“Where’s Tali?” She called down.

The quarian poked an arm out from under the panel and gave a slight wave before disappearing back underneath.

“Are you two okay?”

Swallowing air, Liara gave a shaky nod and let down her shield, “Yes. Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

A thud came from beneath the panels and Tali crawled out with a huffy grumble before she called up to the commander, “I’ve gotten this _bosh’tet_ patched and the blown fuses bypassed but it’s not going to be any use until we get the main reactor back online.” Her tiny  three fingered hand slammed the button to raise the platform as she spoke.

As the platform rose, Liara’s eyes locked on the missing leg section of the commander’s armour. The expensive suit had formed a protective shield barrier over a nasty looking burn but it didn’t look as if it had been treated yet. As Liara opened her mouth to say something, Pashera turned away and gestured, “Alright my Scones, I don’t trust fully splitting up again. Let’s not waste any time and head for the reactor as a group.”

Liara slowly closed her mouth and worried at her lower lip. It wasn’t her place to say anything but she felt the cold tugging claws of worry as she walked with the others towards the path that lead them towards the reactor.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations-  
>  _Nahin mera din._ \- Not my Day.  
>  _Mamataamayee vyakti_ \- mother hen
> 
> Yay. I know this took **forever** but finally-- an update! With minimal editing because I'm a terrible person. I'll come back and edit it later. Never fear. But for now-- it is updated! Thank you for the comments, kudos, and support! It really means a lot to me. ♥


	18. LITTLE WING

 

“Shepard,” Wrex’s voice was a dangerous growl, “I hope you know what you’ve done.”

Pashera’s hand slid from the panel. “Indeed,” She glanced over her shoulder, “I refused to kill an entire race based on past assumptions and preconceptions. If she breaks her word, then I will act upon that.”  Rolling her shoulders back she holstered her gun and turned to face the group.

Wrex stared upwards where the Rachni Queen had disappeared and grumbled, “Mark my words: you’ll regret this, Shepard.”

His words were a sharp sort of sting as she walked over to Liara, who knelt beside the body of her mother. Placing a hand on Liara’s shoulder, she asked, “Do you need a few more minutes?” 

The tearful asari shook her head, “No. We should go... meet up with Garrus and Tali… my-- Benezia said she transmitted the Mu relay’s coordinates...we’ll need to hurry. ”

Pashera nodded and helped Laira to her feet before tapping the comm, “Garrus, report.”

“ _... We’re almost all clear here, Commander. The IED is armed. The tram is almost loaded with the civilians and we’ll head topside once you arrive_.”

She licked her lips and glanced at her omni-tool as it flashed a notification, “Good. Stay alert for any strays. We are headed your direction.”

“ _Acknowledged._ ”

Pashera gestured towards the far door, “Time to get going. ...Rice crackers.”

Joker crackled onto the comm, “ _Commander, that didn’t count. Rice crackers aren’t a desert._ ”

Air hiss between her teeth for a moment before she shook her head, “I disagree. They are sweet enough to be a dessert or baked treat. It counts and it’s the last one.”

“ _Well I’m saying it doesn’t._ ”

“...Did you know I have never been beaten in hand-to-hand combat?”

“ _... yeeees?_ ”

“As the ship’s commanding officer I’ve noticed that your defence training has been--”

“ _Alright! Alright. You win. It counts. I concede. You don’t need to break me on the matts_ ,” He chuckled and she could hear the rough scratch of beard on skin as he muttered, “ _Think maybe I underestimated how much you liked the show._ ”

Pashera h’med noncommittally and shut her comm link off. A part of her wanted to mention that it wasn’t the show she liked but having an hour or two to unwind and his running commentary during movies made it all worthwhile. The joke of having to think of sweets to call the squad had simply been an entertaining side benefit. Though she worried that culturally it might have come off as threatening if people didn’t know human customs.

While they rode the elevator up, she checked her omni-tool’s notification. Something was giving a reading near the proximity alarm grenade but it wasn’t close enough to be caught in a detonation yet.  Pulling up earlier readings on the rachni she checked the readings-- not the same.

“Liara?”

The asari looked up when Pashra called her. Blue eyes dark with a reserved sorrow, “Yes… commander?”

“If I link you into this proximity trigger, can you keep an eye on it and tell me if or when it gets better readings? Or better yet, if it can be identified?”

Liara nodded and opened her own omni. Linking the data was simple since they were already synced and Pashera kept a close eye on the asari. With any luck, this would help give her something to focus on. Keep her mind off things. Or not.

Closing her omni-tool, she let her hand drop. Wrex’s brushed against hers and she had to resist pulling away. _Communicate. Talk. Put thoughts to words._ She knew it was important for a relationship but she had always been bad at putting into practice that which she preached. With a sigh, her head bowed and she leaned into him ever so slightly. Silent comfort between them. Opening her mouth to say something, the elevator doors slid open and anything she would have said was drowned as they pressed forward towards the tram.  
  
The ride was quite, calm. Eerily so. Eventually, Liara approached her. “Commander? Those readings. They’re getting clearer. I think someone is in the ducts but there are other heat readings nearby that read at the same temperature the rachni normally are.”

Pashera nodded, her hand holding onto one of the straps from the ceiling. “Vakarian,” She barked while shifting her stance, “What’s our ETA?”

Garrus looked over the control panel. “About ten minutes, Commander.”

She raised her eyebrows and met Liara’s gaze. “Then, let us hope that this possible survivor can survive until we arrive.”

When they arrived, it was to find a nearly dead salarian crawling out of the ducts. He was more skittish than a space cow. Eyes rolling as Pashera dropped some extra grenades into the vent and biotically pulled one of the large panels over the hole. He passed out soon and Noveria security could deal with whatever creatures were left as far as Pashera was concerned.

They ushered the  group of civilians out to the garage, the winds howled outside. Either they’d have to find a mako and try to fit everyone in the two tanks or they’d have to camp until the main hub could send an extraction team. Pashera snorted at the idea of waiting as she looked at the shivering group, there was no way most of them would last more than a couple hours in this room.

“Alenko,” she spoke into the comm quietly, “What’s the status of that secondary tank? Is it salvageable?”

His answer stuttered and she wondered how bad the storm was at the moment, “No ma----m. Fire is out bu----- the ----- ve ------ looks damaged.”

She sighed and sat on one of the crates. “Alenko, can you repeat what is damaged? There are part in here, maybe we can find something to replace…”

“ _The drive rod, ----mander._ ”

Garrus crouched beside her, blue eyes calm as he spoke, “If it’s just the drive rod, I can fix it, Commander.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Last I checked, you and Wrex were quite unable to deal with cold.”

“True,” his mandibles pinched tight as he nodded, a far away look in his eye. “But… maybe if you and Alenko could flip it and roll it in here? We would need to drive both vehicles in to load people anyhow.”

“I think we could manage it, Commander.” Kaidan added over the comms. “It would be nice to get out of here at least. The storm is picking up though. Readings say it’s going to get a lot worse.”

She stood and nodded at Liara as she spoke, “then we’ll try that. Liara, Alenko, let's see if we can get this figured out?”

It was all so much easier said than done. They ended up having to levitate it the entire way into the garage since the track was frozen solid. Afterwards they ended up propping the front section onto some of the metal crates and Wrex stationed himself nearby to keep Garrus from being crushed; though it wasn’t without many jokes on the fact.

 

~~~

Soft clinks mixed with the sound of laughter and good natured humour.  Alcohol was being passed around as everyone ‘off duty’ settled onto the makeshift couch of floor mats in the cargo hold.  To pass the time waiting for the storm to lighten enough for them to leave and reports to file through the nearby relay, they had decided to watch the recording of the group’s exploits and then a movie. Joker had put together a series of ‘funniest clips’ much to Pashera’s amusement and Chakwas volunteered the large screens from the medbay with some blankets. To everyone’s glee, Alenko and Tali had managed to procure snacks and alcohol from some of the Noveria shops.

Pashera sat on the floor to the side of the group. Her prefered pistol, Nemesis, disassembled in pieces on the floor while she watched both the crew and the rolling stream of videos. Cleaning the gun was almost pure habit  but she was taking her time to be more thorough than usual. The snow and the muck had done a serious number on the weapon and it was relaxing to work while she listened to the crew’s laughter.

“Okay,” Liara gestured at the screen, “I know you mentioned receiving special training but this seems so unlike you.”

The large screen shone with the terrified turian guard’s face. Mandibles clamped tight to his face as she switched from flirting to threatening.

Shrugging, Pashera put down the polished piece that she’d just finished buffing with the clean-rag. “I suppose that is because it isn’t me. Not personality wise. As I said, it is all training. Tactics.” She glanced up and raised a brow at the looks that people were giving her. “You do not believe me?”

Williams shrugged from her relaxed position with an ice pack to her side. Gesturing vaguely with her drink she said, “Gotta agree with Ms. T’soni, skipper. It just doesn’t seem like training or ‘you’ for that matter.”

A slow smile stretched Pashera’s lips as she set aside her cleaning tools and stood, “I see. You wish a demonstration?” At the nods, she walked to the middle of the cargo bay and beckoned with a hand, “A volunteer perhaps?”

Hesitantly, Liara passed off her drink and walked over. Pashera waited until the asari was nearby before speaking, “Every move has a purpose.”

Her leg slid back and around, sweeping Liara’s out from under her. Catching the falling asari and bracing an arm around her waist, Pashera held her near pinned beneath her on the ground.  Staring intently at the startled asari she spoke, “A conversation to gather information is like a battle and a battle is like a dance. If you surprise and off balance your opponent you can gain an upper hand or lead the dance.” She leaned forward and touched her nose to Liara’s briefly. Her lips were a small span from being able to kiss as she spoke, “ Some situations require you to come in close. Most races react differently to personal boundaries being breached. Additionally, the closer you are-- the more difficult it is for an opponent to land a blow or draw a weapon.”

Abruptly, she stood and brought Liara with her in one swift movement.  The poor asari looked dazed as she tried to find her balance. Pashera looked towards the group, “Assess weaknesses--”  Grabbing Liara’s hand she spun her outwards while speaking-- “Take note of fears.”

She pulled Liara back towards her and began a dance similar to the tango while occasionally using her biotics the guide the asari.

“Gauge reactions.” She dipped Liara low and kissed her cheek before pulling her up. “Every action and reaction can be used.”

She released Liara who stood swaying and looking dazed. A few quick steps and Pashera was once more sitting down as if nothing had occurred, the buffing cloth once more in her hand as she worked over the gun parts.

“Uhm… Liara? Are you okay?” Tali asked with a small giggle.

“What? Oh, yes. Yes. I’m… fine. The commander was surprisingly gentle but I’m not sure what just happened…,”Liara touched a hand to her cheek while wandering over to where Chakwas held her drink. The tips of her fringe were a bright purple that flushed down her neck as she stared at the floor.

Garrus crossed his arms and leaned back with a smug look, “So, Commander, you’re into turians?” his secondary buzzed with curiosity but no clear question that she understood.

Pashra looked up slowly and dipped her head briefly in acknowledgment, “I do not carry preferences. I have rules but that is all.”

“Rules?” Alenko asked while stirring his drink.

“Yes.” one of her hands came up to tick down fingers as she spoke, “No children or those who may be considered under the age of consent. No family members. No non-sentient species or anyone who could not knowingly give proper consent. Other than that, I have no preference on race or gender though I might avoid volus.”

“So like… anything?” Joker asked, leaning forward with a smirk.

She nodded, “Yes. Anything. It does not matter what they are-- what matters is who they are.”

The smirk on his face grew, “so like… krogan?”

Nodding again, she glanced at Wrex.

Joker’s shit eating grin was too telling as he dramatically wiggled his eyebrows, “Okay, I think you’re pulling my leg. You can’t be serious, uh,” he glanced at Wrex with his growing smirk, “No offense big guy.”

Pashera blinked slowly at Wrex and kept her expression neutral. They hadn’t discussed keeping their relationship private but so far he’d refused to show affection while others were present. After their little moment of tension earlier for her choice with the Rachni she was wary of accidentally saying something that might upset him. It was up to him if he wanted to keep it all quiet.

The large krogan sighed and downed his drink before grumbling under his breath, “No offense taken since she seems to like this krogan just fine.”

Her eyes lit with her happiness as she beamed brightly at him. Everyone’s head seemed to whip between them in almost perfect synchrony as they realized what had been said.

“Wait, you and Wrex?” Williams asked. Her hazel-brown eyes looked as if they might bug out of her head as she stared at the commander.

Pashera nodded as she set down the finished piece and picked up the next while fixing Williams with a steady gaze, “Yes, Ash. Wrex and I are in a relationship. He has agreed to my terms and I consider him one of my partners though he is allowed to break it off at any time.”

Joker hopped back into the conversation with enthusiasm, “Wait, wait, so you’re dating more than one person right now?” The pilot's eyes scanned the room as if looking for the next victim.

Gaze falling back down to her hands, Pashera shook her head, “You are being very meddlesome, but I will answer. No. Wrex is my only partner currently, though I hold interest in others. If you do not mind, I would prefer to let this conversation rest. You did promise us all a movie, Joker. Perhaps you’d be willing to start it now?”

His grin was bordering vicious as he shifted in his seat but it was Alenko who surprised her by asking, “-- you said gender doesn’t matter. So does that mean you’ve been with girls?”

Pashera rolled her eyes, “Oh don’t look so gleeful, Joker. I know you listen in to things going on in the ship.” With a sigh she looked at Kaidan, “the answer is yes. My first relationship was with a human female.”

Her hand slowly stopped it’s methodical path over the gun and her eyes focused on a far away mental sight, “Her eyes were so green. They were like the auroras that used to shine over the colony during summer at night.” A small smile grew as she spoke, “And her hair was like fire when the sun hit it. ...she was much taller than me. I used to joke that she was a springtime dryad.”

“What was her name?”

“Jezel. She was named after one of the flowers that grew on Mindior. The Jezelyiana.  A lovely pink blossom that helped enrich the soil,” She blinked and resumed rubbing the gun part in her hand. With a little dismissive shrug she continue speaking, “She moved away though. Last I heard was that she was working some remote lab somewhere in the Traverse.”

Tali sat forward now, “So, wait… what’s a dryad?”

“It is a figure from human folklore. The spirit of a tree. Often thought to be a beautiful woman of nymph.”

“Aww,” Tali cooed, “you’re a romantic!”

Clearing her throat, Pashera tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks, “There is nothing wrong with that.”

Alenko spoke around a mouthful of imitation popcorn, “So you’ve dated non-humans before?”

Pashera scowled at the group, “I did call you all meddlesome yes? Fine. Yes, I have. I have not had a large host of partners but I have dated a turian female previously as well as a Salarian.”

“So you’ve actually been with turians?” Garrus asked with a look of surprise.

She shrugged, “Only the one. It was… complicated. And short. It was very early in my Alliance years. Are you all quite finished asking questions?”

Williams scowled, “So you’re one of those fetishists, huh?”

The words took a moment to sink in before Pashera started laughing. Of course Williams would think that. When Pashera finally regained control ahs shook her head, “A fetishist would be someone who is fixated on an object or race. This simply doesn’t apply because I hold no real preference and generally only become attracted to people once I’ve learned about them and gotten to know them. I can appreciate the way people look of course but I don’t find it sexually stimulating until I see their minds. Ah… not in the way that asari do of course. I would say it is more like a flower. To watch a flower bloom is a wonderful gift. Seeing the personality of a person as one gets to know them…” She shrugged, “Perhaps I am wrong, but I see a difference between a fetish and this.”

Williams sighed and leaned back in her chair while her hand cradled her injured side, “I guess so. ...I prefer prawns on my plate-- not my bed, though.”

“That’s okay, squishy, I’m sure they don’t want you in their bed either.” Wrex snarked.

Laughter echoed around the hold as they traded quips and Joker finally started the movie.

 

~~

 

Joker sat low in his chair sulking.

Although he knew it was bad for his back with the added bonus that Karin would probably yell at him later, he was too annoyed to care. Since setting course to the Attican Traverse at Pashera’s request, Kaidan had been puttering around the cockpit for the majority of the day and even taken to sit in the commander’s prefered seat. Joker chewed his lip in frustration as he adjusted the coordinate variables-- he’d made plans to watch one of his old favorite movies with the commander but he was sure that Kaidan’s hovering had kept her away. It didn’t help that the biotic had been obnoxiously chatty and determined to talk about the strangest things.

Really, Joker might not have minded that on a normal day.

That day didn’t seem to be normal.

They’d all over indulged with the alcohol the evening before and Joker’s head was pounding. Kaidan’s obsession with talking about food was simply making him feel ill and the barking laughter that the Biotic would occasionally put out made Joker want to punch him. Eventually, he decided to try and ‘out weird’ Kaidan in hopes that it would make the biotic finally leave. Normally it would be an easy feat, but today he wasn’t sure what the lieutenant had been drinking to make him spout so much nonsense.

His hand fiddled with the control to the cockpit window shields as he spoke, “You know what I don’t understand? ...Why do all asari look female? I mean-- I get the boobs-- but I don’t understand why they all look like blue human-ish babes.”

“Asari don’t have breast tissue,” A soft voice spoke from behind him.

Joker twisted to peek around the edge of his chair to see the speaker. Pashera sat in the archway with a datapad. He was sure that blocking a walkway like that had to be against protocol somewhere but really… as the commanding officer of the ship it’s not like anyone was there to chastise her.

Kaidan’s face scrunched for a moment before he spoke in a confused tone, “Not sure I understand what you mean, Commander.”

Her eyes flickered over her datapad for a moment before they finally pulled up and towards them. Blue eyes blinking, she spoke in that same distracted tone, “They are not fatty tissue like humans have. They are used to entice mates though.” As she spoke her gaze drifted back down and she typed something into the datapad rapidly as she spoke, “Asari don’t often correct us on pronoun usage either. Humans typically refer to asari as ‘she’, which can be incorrect depending on the preference of the individual. I’m unsure why most of them look more human though.”

Joker shared a look with Kaidan before grimacing, “Right… well, as fascinating as this conversation is, can you move to somewhere where I don’t have to become a pretzel to see you?”

She unfolded from the floor in a graceful move that made jealousy curl like a lazy cat in his gut. As she stretched she spoke, “of course. You’re due for your shift break for lunch. Did you want to join me for… rations?”

He didn’t bother holding back his grin at her dislike for the rations. They weren’t as bad as some of the shit he’d eaten during his academy years and she was well known for putting the order in for the higher grade stuff-- rumours were that she even used some of her own money to do so.

With a nod he signaled the yeoman to take over and heaved himself out of the chair. Kaidan was already beside Shepard. As Joker grabbed his crutches he asked, “Okay, so tell-- how do you even know this?”

Shepard slipped the datapad into one of the pockets to her cargo pants as she spoke, “My uncle, Denyrisi, was Asari. He explained it.”

Joker nearly tripped on his crutches as he laughed, “Shit. Now I _know_ you’re messing with me. There are no male asari. Everyone knows that.”

Kaidan hummed in agreement from beside him.

Shepard’s hand came up and she took a small earbud out and stopped the music that she’d apparently been playing with her omni-tool before she replied, “There are no male asari the same way there are no female asari. How they are refered to is their preference. Asari language is very complex. They have names for hundreds of shades of blue the same way they have well over fifty words for how a person identifies their self. When programming the the translators…” She trailed off and waved a hand as if it could express what she wanted. Her brows knit together as she spoke again, “the Galactic Standard language is very influenced by the races that helped shape it but early in our contact with the other races.. Well to be honest, human language and concept of self is very limited. In the end it was easiest to simply pick something that humans would recognize and cross their hands.”

Joker’s next comment was lost as he caught sight of Liara once they stepped off the stairs. He waived his crutch to get her attention as he called out to her, “Liara. The commander is telling us that there are asari who are male-- is it true or is she having us for a laugh?”

A sigh came from Shepard as she moved off to pull one of the packets from the storage shelf. Her hand flicked over the ration sheet to log her meal and Liara’s gaze bounced between them. When the asari answered, her eyes were wide with confusion, “Well… yes. I’m not sure it’s the same way as humans conceptualize the gender but translation wise…” Her blue cheeks crinkled with a forced smile, “Asari are monogendered technically. We’re more like hanar than a human if you think about it. As for the male asari… well, most don’t leave the home planet due to other societies mislabeling them. As we intermingle with other races it’s become more common for us to take the role of female and raise ‘daughters’.”

Kaidan brought his own meal over, brows scrunched in thought as he asked, “If that’s the case, what do you identify as?”

Liara’s little tattooed eyebrows scrunched as well, a mimic of Kaidan's expression with a hint of annoyance as she gave a waspish answer, “Neither. There isn’t a word for it in your language and before being on this ship I didn’t have a preference. Most people on this ship refer to me as female and I’ve come to accept that but to be honest I’m rather undecided on the whole matter.”

“Okay…” Joker sat down at the table when Pashera wordlessly set down heated packaged for them all. He licked his lips before speaking again, “so what are the purpose of you ‘not boobs’ boobs?”

Beside him, Kaidan choked on the mouthful of food he’d taken while turning an interesting shade of red. However, it wasn’t Liara that answered. Shepard slid onto one of the chairs as she spoke, “I already told you. It’s to attract mates since asari do not nurse. Their pregnancy term is longer than a human’s by about one earth year but it depends on the DNA contributor. The child is born without as long of a developmental stage.”

A tinge of purple could be seen in Liara’s cheeks and fringe tips and she nodded. “The -uhm- the commander is correct. I believe the best example in human culture would be several of earth’s birds. Our chest tissue can inflate to attract a mate.” the purple tinge had spread to most of her fringe and her hands fluttered nervously as she continued speaking, “But that’s a _very_ old practice. It’s considered incredibly rude in today’s society to do that nowadays. It’s -uhm- well, we choose a level of inflation that -uhm- appeals for the most part and maintain it now.”

Shepard nodded as she opened her steaming packet of rations and a thick smell of vegetables rolled upwards. He’d noticed that her own ration stock was always vegetable based. He wasn’t really one to ask on that but he always wondered if there was a reason behind it. She took a bite of the re-hydrated squash before speaking, “You don’t use air though. Wonder if it’s inflation if it’s not air…. Anyhow it’s not like a--” she snapped her fingers while searching for the word-- “a balloon? Is that the item I’m thinking of?”

Shrugging, shepard gave a small wave of her fork as she continued, “It’s really quite interesting though. It’s a tissue that expands according to biotic output. The larger the chest size- the more powerful they are likely to be. It takes a great amount of skill to maintain a chest of larger size. Always important to keep in mind during a fight.”

Liara gave a startled nod, “Of course. I-I just don’t understand though. How do you know all this, Shepard?”

Joker smirked as he spoke around his own lunch--a bit of some sort of re-hydrated cloned meat and potato imitation. “She said she had an asari uncle.”

Brows raising, Liara looked to the commander, “Truly? You’ve mt a _trishilnna_?”

“A what?” Kaidan asked, his hand frozen over his own meal.

Shepard simply nodded, “One of the terms for an outcast male asari. Though if I remember correctly he was actually a _bashkadain’shi_.”

The purple blush crept back into Liara’s face as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Oh… Oh, I see. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t an issue.”

Joker looked between them. Liara’s deep purple blush now tinged the frills on her neck and she stared awkwardly at the table as Shepard poked at her lunch. He stabbed another forkful of food as he asked, “Uh… what just happened and what’s a _bash-kaidan-she_?”

Liara picked some of the fruit from the cold section of Shepard’s tray when the commander gave a silent offer. She nibbled it as she answered, “a _bashkadain’shi_ is one of the few asari who has little to no biotic talent and has been identified as unbreedable because they cannot perform the mindmeld necessary.”

Kaidan frowned down at his plate, “that sounds… really terrible.”

Shepard shrugged as she took a bite from a vividly purple chunk of vegetable. “Deny didn’t mind for the most part. And it wasn’t much but he was part of our family. Even if he couldn’t have kids of his own, he has us for a little while.”

Liara snagged another pieces of fruit with a small shared smile from Shepard before she asked, “for a while?”

“He left. Went on a delivery and never came back. He either died or…” she paused and her head tilted in thought, “Maybe he moved on. It was a few months before the attack on mindoir so I’ve never found out. He’s never contacted me though… I still consider him family regardless.”

“I’m sure he loved you all regardless,” Liara said with bright eyes.

Shepard’s smile was small and forced as she nodded before returning to her food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies, I'm so dang sorry that updating this has taken so long-- I've been stuck between personal matters, a slump, and working on some original works. I hope this will tide you over for a little while and I've got fingers crossed that I can get some more chapters up soon. ♥ Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me!!! (Also, this has no editing and It's far past when I should be asleep so I'm terribly sorry for any typos, mistakes, or awkward wording!)

**Author's Note:**

> ♥ Thank you for reading this far! I understand that this isn't the normal type of fanwork but thank you for giving it a chance. Although I've given it a decent round -or ten- of editing it still may undergo some polishing. Changes might occur. ♥
> 
> [[ **08.07.17-- Re-write in progress. I will not give up on this beast.** ♥]]


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